After the Fall
by NobodyAtAll
Summary: What happens to the Malfoys immediately following the Dark Lord's demise? Follow as they struggle to avoid imprisonment and to reclaim what's left of their lives. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco - End of TDH and after. Some later chapters rated M.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: This story begins during the Battle of Hogwarts, immediately following Harry Potter's reappearance. There is one deviation from the book, in that the Malfoys run from the battle (like in the movie). Other than that, everything will strictly follow canon. _

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><p>Narcissa pulled her son along with her, mind racing. She didn't know where she was going but knew that they had to put distance between themselves and the Dark Lord. He would kill them all if he got the chance now.<p>

She didn't stop to look for her husband. She could hear his footsteps following.

When she reached the Forbidden Forest, Narcissa plunged in, leading them blindly. At last, when she realized that she could not remember the way back out, she slowed her steps. They were in a little clearing that looked as if it had been trampled - most likely knocked down by the Dark Lord's giants. She went over to a fallen log, and finally relinquished her hold on her son.

Draco sank down onto the log and let his head hang. Narcissa felt a hand on her back, and turned her head slightly to glance at her husband as he walked past her. He was taking in their surroundings warily. Narcissa finally realized that she was out of breath, and leaned against the nearest tree.

She was watching Lucius look around before she heard Draco take in a sharp breath. Her eyes immediately went to him, and she saw that her son's back was heaving with silent sobs.

Narcissa sat next to him, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. It took him a few seconds to find his words, but he finally croaked, "I lost your wand."

She had already feared as much, but nonetheless her stomach clenched as if she'd swallowed a ball of ice. Lucius had turned and was now watching them. Draco continued haltingly, "...I got Disarmed... I could have got it back but... Crabbe..." He clenched his eyes shut, and she realized that her son's young friend was dead. "He cast Fiendfyre, and couldn't control it. Goyle was out cold, and I just barely got us away..."

Tears rolled down his face. Narcissa pulled him in to her, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. She wanted to comfort him, but no words came to her.

"I'm sorry, Mum," he croaked.

Narcissa hushed him. "No," she said, rubbing his back, "It's all right."

Even so, she looked over Draco's shoulder to her husband. Lucius' gaze was unreadable. She could tell he was thinking very hard about something. He looked away, and began to slowly circle around the clearing.

Finally he approached them. "There is something I must do," Lucius said. Draco lifted his head at the sound of his father's voice, and he snapped out of his grief for a moment. Lucius dug his hand deep into the inner pocket of his robes, and withdrew a pocket-watch. He handed it to his son, and said, "If I am not back in an hour, I want you to get out of here on foot."

"Where are you going?" Narcissa interrupted him.

Lucius looked at her. "Without a single wand between the three of us, we don't stand a chance. I'm going to find one."

"I'll go with you," Narcissa said quickly.

Her husband shook his head. "One person is not as noticeable as two or three." He looked at Draco again, whose eyes were red and wet. "I'll be back," Lucius said quietly, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder.

He glanced at Narcissa before turning to go. She grabbed his sleeve quickly, pulling him back. "No, Lucius, we have to stay together," she whispered urgently. Her eyes were suddenly wet.

Lucius looked down at her. "Trust me," he said. Narcissa shook her head ever so slightly, unwilling to let him go.

Lucius leaned in close to her and pressed his lips gently against hers. Tears slid down her cheeks into their kiss. He placed a hand on the crook of her neck, pulling her closer. Narcissa felt him coaxing her mouth open, and although surprised, she let him. Her surprise grew when he felt him tip her head back and deepen the kiss, claiming her. His weeks of stubble was rough against her face, but she didn't care.

As she finally felt him pulling away, she gave his lips one last kiss before she looked up into his eyes. The intensity there reassured her of his love. He backed away from her a step without breaking their gaze, before turning and heading off.

Narcissa watched him disappear, pushing away the feeling that this felt like goodbye. Her lips were red from kissing, her eyes and nose, from weeping.

At last she became very aware of the presence of Draco, on whose back her hand still rested. With only a tiny bit of embarrassment, she glanced over at him and gave him a final little pat before returning her hand to her lap.

Draco, courteously, made no comment.

Each minute seemed to drag on for hours at first, but then, after half an hour, time seemed to speed up. Soon it had been forty-five minutes. Draco and Narcissa were silent as they waited. When at last Lucius had only one minute left, Narcissa could take it no more. She stood and walked to the other side of the clearing behind her son, and sobbed as quietly as she could.

Could she leave her husband behind? Did she have a choice? She'd lied to the Dark Lord to save her son's life. Her responsibility, now, was to get him away from all this. But to abandon Lucius... On the other hand, her husband could be dead. The thought occurred to her abruptly, and it sent a jolt of fear through her body.

Draco appeared at her side. "Mum," he said tentatively. "Let's wait a few more minutes."

The temptation was great. She immediately wanted to nod, to be grateful for the suggestion, but she couldn't be. Lucius had wanted her to take Draco and get out. And if he _was_ dead, and she was waiting here for nothing... No. They had to go now.

She wiped her eyes and shook her head at her son. Draco pleaded, "Just five minutes, who knows if he could have gotten held up, he could be hurt -"

"He could be dead." Narcissa surprised herself with how bluntly she said it. She gathered up her skirt and headed for the far edge of the clearing. "Come."

After a few yards she stopped. Draco hadn't moved. His eyes were fixed on a ball of blue light that was flying toward them at an alarming pace. Narcissa's breath caught in her throat as hope swelled within her. As it neared them, it gracefully changed form into a peacock.

"_I am coming. Stay where you are,_" it said.

The Patronus disappeared, and Narcissa let out a sigh of relief.

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><p><em>Please R&amp;R!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

When Lucius reappeared in the clearing, Narcissa immediately flung her arms around him. He returned her embrace, but kept it brief. "Listen to me," he said, peeling her off of him. He looked at Draco, then back to his wife. "The Dark Lord has been destroyed."

Their eyes grew wide. Lucius went on, "The fight is over. I think it would be best for us if we returned to the castle."

Narcissa looked at him in shock, but he grabbed her arm firmly. "It is our best chance," he insisted. "We have not supported the Dark Lord today. You saved Harry Potter, Narcissa."

Draco looked confused, but Lucius continued. "I did not fight today, nor did I fight when they moved Potter last July. We are, essentially, innocent."

"I'm not." Draco looked at his parents fearfully. "I attacked Potter. And everyone here saw me go over to the Dark Lord while you both stood behind him."

Narcissa looked at her husband. "And we let Bellatrix torture the Granger girl. And locked up Potter and the Weasley boy, along with plenty of others."

"No one would begrudge us for staying out of Bella's way. Besides," Lucius said, turning to Draco, "You didn't identify Potter."

Father and son stared at each other. Draco swallowed nervously. "You knew it was him, didn't you?" Lucius asked quietly.

After a moment, he nodded. Lucius merely raised his eyebrows, and returned his gaze to Narcissa. "This is the only way we won't be arrested. We have to go up there and join the celebration. If we run, we're guilty."

"But you're supposed to be in Azkaban," Draco said. He was very white.

"And you refused to kill Albus Dumbledore," Lucius answered. He moved over to him and placed his hands on either side of his son's head. "It all evens out, Draco," he said. The boy was trembling, his skin was clammy. "We have as much evidence for us as against us. The more we cooperate now, the easier it will be, do you understand me?"

Draco nodded, though he still looked terrified. Lucius held his gaze for a moment longer, and then released him.

Narcissa was experiencing a range of emotions, but fear was definitely still one of the major players. However, she knew her husband was correct, and so, she followed as he led them out of the forest, back toward the castle.

Hogwarts was in even greater ruins than when they'd last left. Everywhere seemed deserted, but a dull murmur was audible coming from the Great Hall. Draco hesitated, but Narcissa put a hand on his back, urging him forward.

The doors were ajar to the huge chamber. Lucius led the way in, and did not hesitate in the doorway or draw attention toward them. He walked at a relatively slow pace toward the end of what would have been the Ravenclaw table, had anyone been sitting according to houses. The end of the table was empty, and it was near a corner of the room.

Once they were seated, with Draco in between them, Lucius looked over at his wife. She was successfully controlling her emotions while looking appropriately anxious. Their son seemed overwhelmed, and was staring blankly at the table.

They waited. Narcissa knew that eventually someone would confront them. The Dark Lord might be dead, but so were a lot of other people, and someone would have to answer for it.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt who approached them, several hours later. He stood across the table from them, and nodded a greeting. "You should know that I've been named the temporary Minister for Magic," he said without preamble.

"Congratulations, Minister," Lucius said, without even a hint of irony.

Kingsley nodded and kept his eyes fixed on them. "It's been brought to my attention that your actions in the last twelve hours seem to suggest a change of heart from your previous allegiances," he said slowly, now fixing his eyes intently on Narcissa. She flushed uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. "In light of this information, I suggest you go home. Get your affairs in order. You will be hearing from us soon."

Narcissa suddenly felt very light, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her. She almost smiled. "Thank you, Minister," she said. They wouldn't be held in Azkaban for questioning after all!

Kingsley didn't acknowledge her. He shifted his gaze to Lucius. "I highly suggest you all remain easy to find."

Lucius nodded solemnly. "Minister, I wonder if it wouldn't be more prudent for the Ministry to have a look at Malfoy Manor, before we return to live there."

Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "It might." He thought for a moment. "Would you consent to us questioning the house elves, as well?"

Narcissa swallowed nervously, but Lucius replied smoothly, "Of course."

The Minister nodded. "And where will you go until then?"

"I own a cottage in Shropshire," Lucius replied. "It would be quite easy for you to find."

Kingsley crossed his arms. Finally he nodded. "Very well. We'll be in touch." He nodded toward the doors. "The closest Apparition point is in Hogsmeade. The passage is on the seventh floor."

Lucius thanked him, and the three of them headed for the stairs.

The cottage looked just as Narcissa remembered it. The yard was surrounded by a stone wall, with a small iron gate at the front. The cottage itself was well-kept, with no sign of chipping paint or cobwebs. Lucius went first through the gate and held it open for his wife and son.

Narcissa looked closely at Lucius. He'd never liked this place, and she didn't know why. Today, though, he seemed thoroughly indifferent. He marched straight up to the door and unlocked it with a flick of his recently procured wand. They all went in, and almost immediately a loud _crack!_ resounded and an ancient-looking house elf appeared.

The elf looked at them for only a moment before bowing deeply. "Master. Mistress." He straightened up slowly. "What brings you here?"

Lucius brushed past the little creature. "We're going to be staying here a while," he said shortly.

Narcissa had forgotten that her husband's dislike extended to the elf. Lucius had gone into the parlor, and she nodded for Draco to follow him. "Perhaps you could bring us a bottle of wine and some light refreshments, Pimmle," she said, much more courteously than Lucius had spoken.

The elf bowed and disappeared. Narcissa went into the parlor. Lucius had made a fire in the hearth, and was now slumped to the side in an armchair in the corner, his forehead resting on his hand. Draco looked equally exhausted, sitting on the love seat bent forward, with his face resting on his hands.

Pimmle appeared with a tray, and left it sitting on the low table between the love seats. Narcissa sat down and poured a glass of the deep red wine, and handed it to Draco, who took it but just stared at it.

She poured two more glasses, and took one over to Lucius. He seemed to come out of a reverie as she handed it to him. He stood up, and ran his thumb over her cheek before walking over to the sitting area.

He held up his glass as he sat down across from Draco. "To your mother," Lucius said, as Narcissa sat next to him. He looked at her quite seriously. "You are the bravest liar I have ever known."

Draco and Narcissa raised their glasses with his, and after they had all taken a drink, Lucius placed a hand on her knee. Narcissa smiled slightly and placed her hand over his. "Mum," Draco said hesitantly, interrupting their moment, "What... did you do?"

Narcissa looked up at her son, then to Lucius, then back to Draco again. She hadn't had to admit it out loud yet. Even knowing the Dark Lord was gone, fear spiked in her gut. "I lied to the Dark Lord," she said quietly. "I told him Harry Potter was dead."

They were all silent. Narcissa could hear the unspoken question lingering in the air, _why_? but neither one asked.

They sat in silence for a long time, sipping their wine. Pimmle had brought a tray of tea sandwiches and fruit, but no one touched them. Narcissa did pour herself another glass of wine, and was pleased to see that the bottle was refilling itself.

Lucius was on his third glass of wine when he finally spoke. "I owe you both an apology," he said haltingly. He looked across at their son. "Especially you, Draco."

The young man looked uncomfortable, but Lucius pressed on. "I should never have gotten us into this."

Narcissa set her glass of wine down. "You didn't have a choice, Lucius."

"Of course I had a choice," he retorted, looking back at her. "We all had a choice."

"And I agreed to marry you with the full knowledge that you had taken the Mark," Narcissa answered sharply. "I share as much blame as you where Draco is concerned."

Lucius shook his head. "You saw the truth long before I did, Cissa, _don't_ argue with me," he said, his voice bitter.

Draco was watching his parents with wide eyes. Lucius turned back to him. "I should never have encouraged you to become involved. I should have taken us out of the country the moment the Mark burned again."

A tear slid down Narcissa's cheek. She wanted to stop him from saying these things, to stop him from taking the blame upon himself. Regardless of how true it was.

Lucius was fighting his own tears, she could tell. "I may spend the rest of my life in Azkaban paying for my mistakes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I want you to know that I'm sorry, Draco." Their son's eyes were full of tears, staring at the table now. "I am going to do everything in my power to keep you out of there."

Abruptly, Lucius stood up and walked over to the window. His shoulders were shaking.

Draco, too, was stifling sobs. Narcissa looked at her son for a moment, then at her husband. She stood and went to Lucius, embracing him gently from behind, resting her cheek against his arm. His sobs did not dissipate.

Very gently, she tried to draw him back toward where they'd been sitting. He remained firmly rooted to the spot. Undeterred, she pulled on him again, and he slowly, begrudgingly, went with her. She brought him over to the seating area, and gently took his hand. He looked at her through his tears, and shook his head ever so slightly.

She ignored him, and without letting go of his hand, turned to her son, who was crying into his fists. Lucius was crushing her hand in his grip. He knew what she was doing.

Narcissa took hold of Draco's upper arm with her other hand, drawing him up to his feet. Both men seemed determined to prove to Narcissa that they didn't need this by smothering their sobs, and the room grew painfully quiet. She kissed her son on the cheek, gave his arm a squeeze, and then brought him around her, to his father. She wrestled her hand out of Lucius' grip and stepped back.

They stared at each other's shoes. Narcissa bit her lip and waited. Finally, Lucius raised a shaking hand and placed it on his son's shoulder. Draco's torso hitched ever so slightly with a small sob. Very unsteadily, Lucius drew his son toward him, and wrapped him in his arms. Draco returned his embrace tentatively, and only when his father tightened his arms around him did Narcissa see her son's face contort with suppressed emotion.

The two were clinging to each other, pretending not to cry, each letting out a quiet sob every few seconds or so, with tears rolling down their faces. Narcissa longed to hug them both, but wanted them to have this moment together.

After a few minutes they seemed more under-control, and Narcissa felt she could ease the ensuing awkwardness by taking it upon herself to end the moment. She encircled both of them in her arms from the side, resting her cheek against Lucius' shoulder, and felt both of them relax a little bit. She found Draco's hand and slid hers underneath, so that he curled his hand around hers, and her palm was against Lucius' back. Her other hand found Lucius' hand, and entwined her fingers with his.

Narcissa could have stayed like that forever, with her whole family safe in her arms, but she knew that the boys would soon get squirmy. After a few moments, she released both of their hands and drew back, feeling them do the same.

She diverted her husband's attention by drawing him to her, giving him a quick hug. As she pulled away again, he turned and looked at Draco. He reached out and gripped the young man's upper arm for a moment, and a look of understanding passed between them. Lucius then turned and left the room rather quickly.

Narcissa watched her son for a moment before giving him a quick hug as well. He pulled away after a moment. She held him at arm's length and wiped a smudge of soot off his cheek. "I'd like to be alone for a while," he said quietly.

She nodded. "We'll be..." she trailed off as she realized she didn't know where they'd be. "...around. It's not a big house," she added with a small smile.

Draco smiled slightly at that. Giving him a kiss on the cheek, Narcissa left the parlor and headed up the stairs after her husband.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! Your encouragement is what keeps me going_. :)

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><p>After he had run off, her husband surely wanted to be left alone for a little while, and Narcissa respected that - for a short space of time. In the meantime she busied herself with mundane tasks, looking in on each room, having Pimmle go to the Manor and fetch at least some of their clothing - she doubted the Ministry would miss it. She tried to keep herself occupied, to avoid reflecting on the last twenty-four hours.<p>

Eventually, though, Narcissa found Lucius in the master bedroom staring out the window. He barely acknowledged her presence, but she entered anyway and waited for him to speak. When it became clear that he had no intention of speaking, she sighed. "Draco loves you. And you love him."

Lucius didn't answer, but she knew he was listening.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," she told him softly.

Her husband nodded, and Narcissa could sense that it was the end of the conversation. She doubted the topic would be broached again, but at least she had the satisfaction of knowing that she'd gotten the two of them to express some kind of mutual affection.

She leaned back against the window frame, watching Lucius' cool gray eyes stare out the window. "Tell me what you're thinking," she asked.

Lucius' eyes flicked away from the window and met hers. His expression remained quite serious. Silently, he took a step closer to her, and lifted his hand to trace her jawline. "Our days together may very well be limited," he said softly. "I could be sent back to Azkaban."

"Don't say that," Narcissa said severely, grabbing his hand and pulling it close to her chest. She could feel tears working their way into her eyes, and she blinked them back.

He looked at her intently. After a few moments he took his hand away from hers, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "But since it's true," he said, bringing his finger to her lips as she tried to protest again, "I believe I should make love to you as often as possible while I still can."

A smile managed to appear at the corners of her mouth, although she felt like crying. It seemed her husband was swiftly regaining his old brazen manner. Lucius leaned in and kissed her temple, and Narcissa was suddenly hyperaware of the heat emanating from his body. How long had it been..? Far too long, she concluded as her husband's lips found their way to her neck.

Lucius unclasped the front of her dress, and let his fingers linger on the fabric near her breasts before parting the outer layer of her clothes. The heat rose in Narcissa's face, and she leaned in to kiss him as she shrugged off the heavy outer layer. She tossed the dress over a nearby chair without looking and hoped that it hadn't landed on the floor.

Her husband's hands slid to her waist, holding her close to him. Narcissa fumbled with his belt and let it drop to the floor, tugged his robes off his shoulders and was rid of them in a similar fashion. Suddenly, almost aggressively, she began pulling his tunic up, and Lucius lifted his arms to allow her to remove it completely. She threw it aside carelessly.

Lucius gave her a slightly odd look as he returned his hands to her hips. She kicked his robes out of their path toward the bed. "You're never wearing them again," she said fiercely.

With a sudden look of comprehension, he pulled her close with an equal ferocity and kissed her. Of course. These were his Death Eater robes.

Lucius moved them closer to the bed and laid Narcissa down beneath him. His hands fingered the waistband of her underskirt, and untucked her camisole. He lifted the garment over her head, fingers gliding over the smooth skin of her raised arms as he removed it completely.

He kissed down her neck, down her chest... and he paused. He lifted his head slightly to look at her, and what he saw gave him such a jolt that he actually gasped.

Narcissa felt his change of demeanor even before he gasped, and she sat up slightly. "Lucius?"

Of course, he had noticed that she was a bit thinner. She'd felt tinier in his arms, more delicate perhaps, but he had not been prepared for this. She was positively gaunt. He ran his hand down over her sunken ribs, then raised his eyes to look into hers.

"Cissa..." He couldn't possibly think of how to put into words the many things he wanted to say: 'How could you have let this happen' being one of them; 'How could I have let this happen' being another.

She could see the worry in his eyes, mingled with disbelief. "I know," she said with a tired sigh. The last thing she had wanted was to cause her husband even more distress.

"Cissa, this is not all right," he said, more severely than he'd meant to.

"Yes, well, I have been under a bit of stress recently," Narcissa responded, not without irony. In truth, she'd hardly had an appetite at all for more than a year.

Lucius was still battling his astonishment. "But why didn't you tell me?"

Inwardly, she grimaced. What had he expected her to tell him? Lucius, I'm losing weight, please force me to eat even if I have no desire to? "I don't know," she answered him, faltering, "I suppose I thought you could see for yourself."

This only upset him further. "Narcissa, it's been months since I've seen you in anything less than a nightgown!"

She sat up the whole way and slid a hand to his cheek. "All the more reason to put aside this conversation for the moment," she murmured, and kissed him, trying to draw him back down to her.

Lucius, however, barely responded to her kiss, and resisted her hands. "Don't try to divert my attention, dearest. I'm not entirely sure this is something that I can 'put aside'."

The way he'd said that bothered her. Narcissa was looking him straight in the eye, but suddenly found that she could not bear another moment of it. She looked away, removed her hands from his shoulders, and pulled back from him, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm sorry to have dissatisfied you," she said after a moment.

Lucius figured he was more troubled than dissatisfied, but then he _was_ quite unhappy with her lack of consideration for her own health. It made him even more unhappy, though, to see the look that had come over her face. Narcissa was trying to hide it by keeping her eyes on her lap, but Lucius had already seen her swallow the rising lump in her throat. She grabbed her camisole, quickly slipped it back on, and stood. Lucius grabbed her by the wrist. "Don't run off, Narcissa," he said. He found it interesting that the woman who had forced him to acknowledge his feelings only an hour ago was now trying to conceal her own.

"I'm not running off," she responded, but her voice came out as a croak.

Lucius took hold of her hands and pulled her around to face him. "I'm only worried about you, Cissa."

It frustrated her that she could not hold back her tears, but a strong mixture of disappointment, shame, and guilt was brewing inside her. She couldn't bear to think that Lucius regarded her body as anything but flawless. Her hair might be wind-blown, her face smudged, and these were things that in times past might have caused her some degree of mortification, but they were easily remedied. The condition of her figure, though, was something she could not change without some difficulty, and seemed to her to be a reflection of something more personal.

Her husband's hands seemed to be persuading her to sit next to him, and she reluctantly submitted. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she had a mind to shrug him off. She chose instead to stare at her lap.

Lucius leaned his head close to hers and murmured, "I have the distinct impression that you are angry with me."

Narcissa almost denied it, but then began to consider. She was a bit put out - he was being rather judgmental. Nevertheless, she wiped her eyes, and tried to keep her tone civil as she responded, "I can't deny I'm a bit disappointed that you're so repulsed by my current appearance."

He was taken aback by her response. "I am not at all 'repulsed' by you!"

She smiled wryly and turned her head to look up at him. "Oh, Lucius, come now. When have you ever turned me down?"

Lucius stammered, "Plenty of... Narcissa, that's not... I -"

But she cut him off, as a few tears dripped down her cheeks once more. "I should have paid more attention to my figure, to be sure, but given our circumstances for the past few months my mind has been occupied elsewhere."

"Dearest, I am not so shallow as you would make me," he countered.

He tried to turn her face toward him, but she wriggled out of his embrace, moving farther down the bed. "Of course you are," she retorted, "Though I should point out that most women _gain_ weight as they grow older, so really you should consider yourself fortunate. Besides, you're not exactly ready for the cover of _Witch Weekly_ yourself at the moment," she added flatly.

Lucius stared at her with his mouth agape. "You're mad, woman," he finally said.

Narcissa half-nodded, wiping the tears off her face. Then she stood once again, walking defeatedly to the armchair and picking up her dress. Lucius jumped up and, taking hold of her shoulders, steered her into the chair. "You're talking absolute rubbish, do you understand that? I am in no way repelled at all by your appearance; I merely wished to express my concern about your rather significant loss of weight."

He was hovering close to her face, and Narcissa suspected that she wouldn't be granted freedom until she acknowledged him. Therefore, she gave a slight nod to appease him, keeping her eyes fixed elsewhere. She stood, forcing him to take a step back, intending to step around him, but he took hold of her bare arms.

Narcissa was gazing unfocused at his chest, and felt him kiss her forehead. He kissed her temple, and began to travel down her cheek, but she felt none of the pleasure she'd previously experienced from his attentions. She shied away from him, but he determinedly leaned in and kissed her again on the cheek. He moved to kiss her on the mouth, and Narcissa firmly turned her head.

"Narcissa Malfoy," he said in a slow, imperious murmur, "You will let me kiss you."

She couldn't stop herself from muttering, "Why?"

She felt his hands on either side of her face, and they gently but assertively made her meet his cool gray eyes. His expression was not unkind.

"Because, I love you," he said plainly.

With a sigh, Narcissa relented, giving him a caring, though chaste, kiss. He wanted to linger, but she pulled back after a moment. She took a step away from him, unrolled the dress in her arms and shook it out so it hung properly. Lucius watched in defeat as she put her arms through the sleeves and began to refasten the bodice.

Humiliation was coursing through her veins, making her blush from head to foot. Trying to ease the awkwardness, she said quietly, "Perhaps you should, erm... go ahead and wash up, so you can change. I've had the elf fetch some of our clothes. ...You're certainly not putting these back on," she ended bluntly, nudging the robes on the floor with her foot.

Lucius stared at her as frustration boiled inside of him. She had nodded that she understood, but he knew she didn't believe him. Still, there was nothing he could do about it for the moment, and so he decided to comply with her wishes. He considered for a moment inviting her into the shower with him, but quickly decided that seeing dirt and soot run off his body would not likely entice her. "All right," he agreed, taking a step toward the adjoining bathroom.

"Perhaps you should have a nap," he suggested pointedly.

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><p>"Pimmle," Lucius said sharply as he entered the dining room, and the elf immediately appeared. "Take some dinner up to Narcissa." The elf bowed and disappeared again.<p>

Draco looked up from his seat. "Why, what's wrong with mum?"

Lucius poured himself some wine. "Nothing." As he placed the decanter back on the table he muttered, "Just a raving lunatic is all."

His son was concerned. "She was fine a few hours ago."

"She's still fine. She's just exhausted. And stubborn." Lucius swirled the wine in his glass without looking at Draco.

"Why won't she come down?"

Lucius didn't answer; instead he took a long sip of wine.

"Dad." Draco's voice was insistent, and Lucius finally looked at him. His son was waiting anxiously for an explanation.

With a sigh, Lucius said, "Because your mother is the most stubborn creature on the face of the planet. And she's somehow gotten it into her head that I no longer find her attractive," he ended in a low voice, with a clenched jaw. He had surprised himself with how much he'd just shared, but there was no taking it back now.

An uncomfortable pause followed, in which Lucius took another swig of wine without looking at his son.

Draco finally said, "Don't know why she'd think that."

Lucius turned to look at him curiously. His son was blushing a bit, but he did not falter under his father's gaze.

"I mean, you did snog her not six inches from my face this morning," Draco said.

Lucius stared at him. He wasn't sure whether to be offended at his impudence or amused at his reasoning.

Draco shrugged, and Lucius finally cracked a smile. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had accused him of 'snogging' someone, but it certainly was a valid assessment. "I believe she just needs some rest," Lucius said, choosing not to acknowledge his son's comment.

Pimmle reappeared and placed their plates of supper on the table. Neither man paid much notice to the little creature, who almost immediately disappeared again.

Lucius seated himself at the end of the table. He set down his glass of wine, and glanced over at Draco, who had picked up his fork but was doing little more than poke at the food on his plate. To be honest, Lucius didn't have much of an appetite either, but felt that after his quarrel with Narcissa he should eat at least a little bit.

"Father," Draco began hesitantly. "May I ask you something?"

Lucius swallowed his bite of salmon, and nodded after a moment. "What would you like to know?"

His son seemed to consider his words before he spoke. "When the Dark Lord tried to kill Potter... I mean when he disappeared the first time... how did you and mum manage to avoid being arrested?"

Lucius' eyebrows raised involuntarily. He should have expected this question from Draco, but he often forgot how much his son did not know. "You must understand that circumstances were much different then," Lucius began slowly, setting down his silverware. How had they done it, he wondered to himself. "The Ministry had very little substantial evidence against anyone, only suspicions, accusations..."

He played with the stem of his wine glass, thinking. "We were both brought in for questioning, which was outrageous, really," he remembered with some anger. "Your mother was accused by someone anonymously, which of course was a false claim. She'd done nothing, she knew almost nothing, I'd been careful to ensure that from the beginning. They realized fairly quickly that she was innocent, and let her go."

Lucius paused and looked at Draco, who was hanging on every word. "It was a delicate situation, of course, but after the false accusations against your mother, they proceeded with more caution against me. Loads of people were claiming to have been under the Imperius Curse, and I went along with the trend. Not very original, but my story was better than most, and fortunately I had enough influence to convince the right people."

He paused again, and Draco interjected, "Did they not know about the Mark?"

Lucius was once again caught off-guard with how little his son knew. His response was to unbutton his left sleeve and push it up. "The Mark fades, you see," he explained, holding his arm out for Draco to see. The skull and snake were now a faint gray outline. His son stared with wide eyes, then yanked back his own sleeve, as if he could not believe it.

"Last time it disappeared completely," Lucius continued, watching his son, who seemed captivated with the sight of his own forearm. "I expect in a few days, it will again."

He pulled his sleeve back down and buttoned the cuff, all the while contemplating his son. The young man's look of subdued delight was not lost on his father, who inwardly wondered how long Draco had longed to be rid of the ugly symbol. Lucius was glad he had be able to give his son some good news, at least.

Draco finally looked up from his arm. "So you were acquitted."

Lucius nodded, and took a sip of wine. "You helped," he said with a hint of a smile. "It generated quite a bit of sympathy to have my beautiful, innocent young wife watching from the crowd, holding our infant son."

Draco nodded, gazing thoughtfully at the table. His lips quirked into a small grin. "So what you're saying is I should go get married in a hurry."

Lucius smiled slightly, but his heart was not in it. "No... I'm afraid the circumstances are a bit different this time," he sighed, sinking back into the present. "Our best strategy is likely the most dangerous one."

The younger man lifted his gaze to him questioningly. "I believe we must tell the truth," Lucius said, his voice heavy.

Draco remained silent, and did not shift his gaze. "They let us go home," he said slowly. "That's got to be a good sign." His father did not nod, and Draco continued, "And you showed them we're willing to cooperate."

Lucius tried to give his son a reassuring look, but could not muster one. "Yes," he agreed. "Let us hope it will be enough."

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><p><em>AN: Don't forget to review!_ :)


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: You guys are the best. Thank you so much to all my reviewers. Enjoy chapter four!_

_Disclaimer: I haven't put one in yet, so I guess I should... Everybody and pretty much everything belongs to J.K. I'm just expanding her world. So don't sue me._

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><p>"What time did you wake up?" Narcissa asked, the next morning.<p>

Lucius made a face. "Oh, around six."

"That's not too bad, I suppose," she commented, coming out of the walk-in closet, buttoning her dress.

Lucius sighed, a bit frustrated that she was still going out of her way to make sure he didn't see her body. "What time did you fall asleep?" he asked her, pushing aside his annoyance.

"I'm not sure," Narcissa answered. "Sometime after two."

He wasn't happy to hear that. "Well then why are you up so early?" he asked, going over to her and pulling her close to him.

"It's nearly nine-thirty; I'd hardly call that early," she replied, looking up at him. He was worried about her, she could tell. "It's just going to take some time to get back into a normal rhythm," Narcissa added gently.

Their sleep patterns had been completely thrown off during the last year, as they had only felt safe sleeping one at a time. Lucius always went to bed first while Narcissa remained awake, then around three or four in the morning she would wake him and she would go to sleep. Last night was the first time they'd slept together since the night after he was released from Azkaban.

In light of that, Narcissa had given up her attempts to avoid her husband's touch. Lucius had been determined to fall asleep with his arms around her, and she had readily allowed it.

Narcissa finished buttoning her dress, and they went downstairs to the sitting room, where the house-elf had laid out the breakfast tray. A copy of the Daily Prophet was laying on the table next to the tray with a bold headline across the front: 'VOLDEMORT DEFEATED.'

"The subscription must have never been cancelled after your father passed away," Narcissa noted.

Lucius seated himself next to her. "It's nice to know I've been paying for a house-elf to remain up-to-date on current events," he drawled cynically. He glanced around the room. "Where is your son?"

Narcissa poured herself some coffee. "He's probably sleeping, Lucius, leave him be."

He picked up the paper and unfolded it. As he did, Narcissa caught sight of the back, which simply read 'DEATH EATERS.' She grabbed hold of the newspaper. "Lucius, look at this," she said urgently.

Lucius turned the paper over and she sidled up beside him to read. Beneath the headline it read, '_Listed below are those known to be followers of Lord Voldemort. Anyone with information regarding so-called 'Death Eaters' should direct their owl to the Auror's Office at the Ministry of Magic.'_ The rest of the article was a list of names in fine print, under three smaller headings: AT-LARGE, ARRESTED, and DEAD.

Narcissa's breathing became quicker as she scanned down the list of names, and was relieved to find that they were not among those listed to be at large, nor were they listed as being arrested.

She froze, though, as her eyes went down the list of those who were dead. '_Bellatrix Lestrange - killed in battle_.'

Narcissa stared at the name, and found that she had no tears for her sister. A strange numbness had taken over her. Lucius must have finally caught up with her, for she felt him tense up and glance at her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against her head.

She couldn't speak about it. Instead she whispered, "We're not listed."

If Lucius was taken aback by her avoidance of the topic, he didn't show it. "Yes, I am surprised... since we are technically under house arrest."

"I'd say that's a good sign," came Draco's voice from behind them.

Some of the weight on Narcissa's chest inexplicably lifted at the sound of her son's voice. He came around the sofa, pausing to kiss his mother's cheek. "How are you feeling, Mum?" he asked, seating himself opposite his parents and grabbing a piece of toast off the tray.

She knew he was referring to her refusal to come down to dinner the night before. "Better, thank you, darling." Narcissa smiled at him. He seemed to be in relatively good spirits. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, not bad," Draco answered.

Lucius had turned the paper back over, and was opening it. Narcissa didn't think she could take any more news, good or bad or anywhere in between, at the moment. "Lucius, must you read that now?"

He was staring at the inside page. The look on his face made Narcissa's heart start hammering again. She leaned toward him and apprehensively looked at the paper.

'SEVERUS SNAPE VINDICATED.'

Narcissa's eyes widened. "What is it?" Draco asked, leaning forward.

She sat back against the sofa. "Read it to us," she said, putting a hand on her husband's arm.

Lucius took a moment to break his attention away from the article before glancing at them. He took a steadying breath before he turned back to the paper and began to read aloud:

_Severus Snape, the late headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was killed two nights ago during the battle which took place on the grounds of the school. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter state that they witnessed the former potions-master's final moments, after he was fatally wounded by Lord Voldemort._

"_He wanted me to take his memories," Potter said of the late headmaster. The formerly alleged Death Eater died soon after from his wounds, but Potter states that he viewed the memories he was given using the headmaster's own Pensieve, and was shocked by their contents. _

"_Professor Snape was working as a double-agent against Voldemort all this time," says Potter. It is commonly known that Snape admitted to being a Death Eater in his youth, but was vouched for by Albus Dumbledore as having turned away from Voldemort's movement. Since the murder of Dumbledore, however, Snape proclaimed himself a Death Eater once more. Only, he was lying._

"_Dumbledore had been badly injured in an attempt to destroy a dark artifact of Voldemort's, and was slowly dying. Rather than let the curse kill him, or allow the attempt on his life planned by Voldemort, Dumbledore asked Professor Snape to end his life. He knew that it would be more dignified, and would allow Snape closer access to the Dark Lord. Professor Snape agreed, and performed the most horrible task imaginable in order to protect those he cared about. And then he became headmaster of Hogwarts in order to protect the students as much as he could," explained Potter._

_But why not attempt to keep the Death Eaters out of the school? "Dumbledore knew that once he was dead, Hogwarts didn't stand a chance," Potter said. "Snape could help much more from the inside."_

_What made Severus Snape take this great personal risk and suffering upon himself, I asked Mr. Potter. "He was a good man," Potter replied simply. "He had watched Voldemort destroy everything he loved, and knew that he had to be stopped." Potter would offer no further explanation._

Draco was staring at the coffee table, Narcissa at the fireplace, Lucius at the paper in his hand. They were silent.

Finally Narcissa breathed, "Is that all?"

Lucius swallowed and glanced at the bottom of the article. "They're holding a public funeral. They're encouraging people to donate."

"Lucius -"

"Of course we will," he interrupted her, closing the paper and folding it on his lap.

They were silent until Narcissa broke in again. "He had no family," she said quietly.

Draco's thoughts were headed another direction.

"Of course Dumbledore knew I was assigned to kill him," he murmured. Lucius and Narcissa both looked at their son. He looked up at them. "Snape told him. If I had told Snape about the Vanishing cabinets... he would have stopped me. He would have stopped me from letting the others into the castle..."

Draco didn't know how to feel about this knowledge. He felt betrayed in a small way, but he felt guilt and regret as well. He could have allowed Professor Snape to prevent the destruction of the school. But then, Dumbledore had planned to die anyway...

"You would have been punished if the plan failed," Lucius interrupted his thoughts. "As it was, you succeeded in a small way. Enough to save your life."

But what his father didn't know was that Dumbledore had offered Draco a chance to defect, and if the other Death Eaters hadn't interrupted, he would have accepted the offer.

If he had told Snape about his plan, and allowed the professor to help him, to talk him out of using the cabinets and come up with a new plan... he would have been alone with the headmaster. He could have disappeared under Dumbledore's wing, taken his mother with him, kept them safe... Snape would have killed Dumbledore as planned, and remained in close favor with Dark Lord, and they would never have had to suffer so much... and having changed sides, they would not now be in danger of spending the rest of their lives in Azkaban.

"Draco?" Narcissa was leaning forward, looking quite concerned. "Are you all right?"

Her son was even paler than usual. He was frowning, and shook his head. It would be impossible to explain to his parents why he suddenly felt so guilty. "I'm not feeling well... if you'll excuse me," he muttered as he stood and left the room.

Lucius and Narcissa sat in silence.

"What are you going to do about Bellatrix?" Lucius finally asked quietly.

Narcissa shrugged.

Her husband looked surprised. "Do you not care?"

"I'm trying not to," she answered. "You're not helping."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Narcissa... that's not like you."

She lifted her head to look at him, unsure how to explain what she was feeling. In her head she knew she owed some loyalty to Bella by virtue of being her sister, but in reality she felt nothing for her. The sister she had grown up with died many years in the past, and some horrifying stranger had taken her place. Narcissa was not inclined to waste any influence they still had on some stranger's dead body.

"We don't know what they did with her. We aren't exactly in a position to be asking the Ministry for favors. And even if they didn't _dispose_ of her body already, we don't know that we'd be permitted to travel in order to bury her with my other relatives."

Having no response, Lucius remained silent. She did have a point. Bellatrix was dead and there was no helping her. It wasn't worth angering the Ministry over her, when their own lives still hung in the balance.

Still, she had been his wife's sister. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded. "Bella was gone a long time ago," she said softly.

Lucius noticed that his wife appeared to be contemplating something, staring at the fireplace once more. "Enchantments break when the person who cast them dies," she murmured, lifting her eyes to him. "Isn't that right?"

He nodded slowly. It worked that way with all the sorcery with which he was familiar. But what was she thinking of?

But she said nothing more. Narcissa took a sip of her coffee, looking rather unsettled by whatever it was she chose not to share with him.

Lucius slipped his arm back around her. "I would like to go to Severus' funeral," he shared. It baffled him that a man he had considered his friend could have hidden so much from him, but then, Severus had always been reserved. The sheer audacity of lying to the Dark Lord's face repeatedly was what really astounded him.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Narcissa said, "I can't imagine how he must have felt all these years. I deceived the Dark Lord for twenty minutes and every moment I was certain he would turn around and kill me."

Lucius' arm tightened around her. "Don't talk about it," he said quickly, kissing the top of her head. It was far too soon for him to comfortably discuss what a great risk she'd taken.

They fell silent again, each preoccupied with their thoughts. For his part, Lucius could not push out of his mind the fear of what could have happened to her, had the Dark Lord discovered her treachery sooner. He could only thank whatever god must be out there that she was here now, safely tucked close to him where she belonged.

The clock over the mantel struck ten, which pulled Lucius out of his contemplation. He sat up, withdrawing his arm from her shoulders. Picking up the paper once more, he glanced at her.

"You should eat something," he prompted her, as tactfully as possible. He returned his gaze to the paper, hoping to avoid the irritated look he was certain would follow.

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><p><em>AN: Reviews are the nectar of life! :D_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: And here is chapter five! Thanks so much to my kind reviewers! Enjoy!_

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><p>Draco had remained in his room all day, and when Narcissa had gone in to check on him she'd found him asleep on his bed, fully clothed. Whether or not he had actually been asleep she could not tell - he had always been good at pretending, when he didn't want to talk to anyone. She hadn't tried to wake him.<p>

However, when he did not appear downstairs the next morning, Narcissa became anxious.

"Go up and talk to him if you're so worried," Lucius told her.

And so, she did just that. She knocked gently when she reached his door. There was no answer, and so she opened the door and poked her head in.

"Draco?" she said gently, looking around the room.

He was seated in an armchair by the fireplace, facing away from her. Narcissa came in and closed the door. She walked slowly toward him, coming around the chair to see him.

His eyes were open, staring into the flames with a hollow expression. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night. Narcissa would have been vexed that he'd pretended to be asleep if she wasn't so concerned.

"Draco," she repeated, and laid a hand on his arm.

His eyes flicked toward her momentarily. She knelt down next to him, placing her other hand on his knee. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Draco took in a deep breath, but still did not look away from the fire. "I don't think you'll understand," he said unsteadily.

Narcissa kept herself from saying 'nonsense!' and bit her lip. "I can try," she answered.

Her son took in another deep breath. She waited, as he seemed to be working up the courage to tell her. Finally, he spoke. "I had the ability to keep us out of harm's way. I was offered the chance to cut ties with the Dark Lord, but I missed the opportunity. And for a long time, I regretted not acting faster, not thinking faster..."

Draco was becoming upset, and she rubbed his arm gently. "I know you and Father would never have approved, but it would have saved us. And I'd finally accepted that things worked out all right after all, and there was nothing I really could have done. But if it's true that Professor Snape was working for Dumbledore, then I really botched everything up..."

Narcissa couldn't bear to see Draco beating himself up like this. "Sweetheart, you can't blame yourself for things you didn't know. No one knew Snape's allegiance wasn't to the Dark Lord."

He shook his head. "But he tried to help me. He wanted me to tell him what I was doing, and I refused, because I wanted to _prove_ myself," he spit out the word distastefully.

"You can't blame yourself," Narcissa repeated firmly. "You can't help anything by sitting up here wishing you could change what's past."

"You don't understand," Draco said fiercely. "I could have kept us out of Azkaban."

Narcissa took his hand in both of hers. "Draco. You heard what your father said the other day. He blames himself for ever returning to the Dark Lord. We all regret what's happened, we all can look back now and see things that we could have done, things that might have helped us, that would have prevented any harm coming to us. But what's done is done, and we can't go back and change anything," she told him. "Your father and I have made plenty of mistakes, Draco. So you mustn't sit around thinking that the ruin of this family rests upon your shoulders."

Her son was crying. Narcissa kissed the hand she had clasped in hers. "I don't care what you've done, or what you failed to do," she said earnestly. "If you want my forgiveness, you have it. But what really matters to me is that we all made it through this war alive and whole and safe, and together."

She gazed up at him steadily. "All right?"

Draco nodded through his tears. Narcissa stood, and she gently pulled him up to his feet and into her arms. She would never get used to her son being taller than her; she felt dwarfed by him. But he would always be her little boy.

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><p>Narcissa heard her husband's footsteps before she sensed him approaching behind her, and was unsurprised when he stopped just short of her left shoulder. "May I join you?" Lucius' voice resonated from behind her.<p>

"Of course," she said pleasantly, looking up at him. She slid to one side of the stone bench, making room for him.

Her husband seated himself next to her easily, gazing across the garden. "What brings you out into this shabby bit of wilderness?" he asked, his voice equally pleasant.

Narcissa shook her head. "It's very peaceful out here," she answered. "Besides, I think it's charming." The bench rested beneath a large flowering tree, and looked out over a small reflecting pool with a little fountain in the center. Rose bushes lined the path, but it was too early in the year for them to have any blooms.

"You're very kind," Lucius said, looking over the small garden critically. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He turned and faced her directly. "How is your son?"

"Better now," Narcissa answered, sobering. She'd left Draco to get cleaned up and collect himself before he left his room. "And he's just as much your son, Lucius. He needs you."

Lucius' brow furrowed. "I know that," he replied earnestly. He took her hand in his. "But he's all right?" he affirmed.

Their son was consumed with self-reproach, but Narcissa had done all she could to ease his conscience. Hopefully, he would soon be feeling fine. She answered her husband with a nod.

"Good," Lucius said sincerely. He turned his gaze out to the fountain. "I've been thinking I'll write the Ministry, and let them know that we will be attending the funeral for Severus," he told her. He leaned toward her slightly, lowering his voice. "I thought I might, as an addendum, inquire after Bellatrix."

Narcissa felt a swell of gratitude, and squeezed his hand. As much as she hadn't wanted to care what happened to her sister's remains, she'd felt barbaric ignoring the issue. The dilemma had been troubling her relentlessly, and so she was thankful her husband could sense her true feelings and was willing to take the matter into his own hands. "I believe that would be the most appropriate thing to do," she answered, adding softly, "Thank you."

Her thoughts had begun to dwell upon someone else as well, ever since reading yesterday's Prophet. More than half of the paper had been comprised of obituaries, and one in particular had captured her attention. Her very worst fear throughout this war had been that she would lose her son, who was so young, too young to be involved, too young to die. It seemed that, while she had escaped from the bloodshed with her offspring for the most part unharmed, the nightmare had come true for another of her own blood.

Narcissa had not seen, spoken to, or heard from Andromeda ever since she ran off and married that muggle-born when Narcissa was sixteen. She'd pushed it from her mind that she ever had a second sister. But every once in a while a pang of something like grief would arise when she allowed herself to remember... and reading the obituary for Nymphadora Tonks had given rise to the sharpest twinge she had felt in a long time.

Her imagination did not allow her to fully fathom the depth of what her sister must feel. Narcissa had heard months ago that her sister's husband Ted was killed, but had squashed down any sympathy she might have felt. Now to have lost her daughter as well... Her niece, Narcissa realized. And her brother-in-law.

She was not certain how her husband would feel about her newly realized sympathy for her sister. Lucius' relationship with Andromeda had never been clear to her, and she had not been courted by him until well after Anny had left. He'd been a year behind her sister at Hogwarts, and they'd seemed friendly enough, but once she had been estranged from Narcissa's family Lucius had not spoken of her. Still, Narcissa wondered if that hadn't been out of respect for the Blacks, rather than out of any hatred for Anny. After all, Lucius _had_ been trying to win Narcissa's hand in marriage.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, Narcissa made up her mind to test the waters. "Lucius, I've been thinking," she began.

Her husband smiled at her fondly. "Yes, I could see that."

Narcissa grinned in spite of herself. Of course he could tell that she'd been preoccupied by something. Her smile faded as she forged ahead. "I'm sure you did not fail to notice that Nymphadora Tonks was listed among the casualties of this week's hostilities."

Lucius' smile faded as well. He moved his gaze down to the hand he held in his. "I believe I did see that, yes," he answered smoothly, "Though I recall the last name had changed."

Narcissa's mouth tightened. "Lupin, yes," she confirmed uneasily. She found the idea of her blood-relation being married to a werewolf rather repugnant, but supposed that it did not matter much anymore. She took a breath and went on, "I thought we might extend our condolences to her mother."

His response was slow and contemplative. "It is a possibility," he agreed. He lifted his eyes to look at her. "Is this something you want to do, or something you believe would be... prudent?"

She pressed her lips together, thinking. "It certainly would be prudent, but... I believe I would like to," she intimated. The idea suddenly frightened her, and she added, "At least, I would like to do _something_, I don't know..." Narcissa took a moment to think clearly before continuing. "We might at least send flowers," she said at last. "With or without signing the card."

Lucius studied her for a moment before nodding. "If that's what you want," he approved, lifting her hand to his lips.

Narcissa allowed herself a small sigh of relief. "I believe it is," she admitted, leaning closer to him. She wasn't feeling quite ready to face Andromeda just yet, but suspected that this small act of compassion might embolden her to further efforts.

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><p><em>AN: Short chapter, I know, but this one took a bit of effort. I think it worked itself out, though. :) Stay tuned!... my brother's wedding is next week, so please forgive some lapses in updating! Aaaaand... Don't forget to review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: My readers are the best. This story got over 3,000 hits in only 2 weeks. **I love each and every one of you.** My gift to you is chapter six... and be forewarned, this one should probably be __**rated M**__. ...enjoy._

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><p>Lucius wasn't sure what had gotten into his wife, but could not bring himself to deny her newly awakened sensibilities. Soon after making her suggestion about Andromeda, Narcissa had solicited his support to make an anonymous gift to her sister's grandson, Teddy. Lucius could not tell if she was trying to reconcile with her estranged relations, or if she was just trying to ease her own conscience, but had decided that either possibility was better than having his wife brood upon their current confinement.<p>

For his part, Lucius felt at once trapped and safe. As much as he despised this cottage for reasons of his own, he knew that if forced to leave it would not be upon good terms. The Ministry had not yet been in touch regarding what was to become of them, but it was coming someday soon; he could feel it, and he dreaded it.

They had received approval from the Ministry to attend Snape's funeral, which had been a crowded and melancholy affair. It felt right to pay respects to the man he'd considered his friend, but Lucius could not help but recognize that no one had really known Severus Snape, except perhaps Dumbledore. Such an air of guilt had swamped the event that he had been quite relieved when it was over.

They had also received word that Bellatrix had been cremated at Hogwarts, along with the other Death Eaters. While Lucius was uncertain if it had been the most sensitive action for the Ministry to take, he had no doubt that it would have thrilled his sister-in-law to know her body was burned alongside her master's.

For the last few days, the Malfoys had been living quietly. They took their meals together and went their ways about the house, socializing with each other when inclined to do so. Narcissa had discovered the bookshelves in her father-in-law's old study, and began to spend hours on the bench in the garden, reading to her heart's content.

Life felt almost normal. Lucius relaxed enough to tease his wife, who was still being coy with him. He could not deny his frustration on that count.

"Dearest, you really should eat something more than that," Lucius admonished her one morning at breakfast. The two of them were alone for the moment, and he decided to push the issue a bit.

Narcissa frowned at him. "One shouldn't force these things," she replied, popping another grape into her mouth.

Her husband shook his head. "That may be so, but I'm afraid my motives are not altogether unselfish." He slid closer to her and flipped her hair back over her shoulder, placing a light kiss on her neck. "For until you have decided you're content with your figure, I must eagerly await the day you will permit me to ravish you. And with that in mind, I respectfully implore you to at least have a bit of toast," he ended with a wicked smile.

Both Lucius and Narcissa were startled suddenly by a movement in the doorway. They glanced over to find their son staring at them with his mouth hanging open. His cheeks were growing pinker by the moment. "Right," he said awkwardly, and quickly excused himself from the situation.

Narcissa was bright pink when she looked back at her husband. "How long do you think he was standing there?"

"Judging by his reaction?" Lucius replied indifferently, "Long enough." He took another sip of tea.

His wife was working herself up. "I should go talk to him," she said suddenly, standing.

Just as quickly, Lucius grabbed her elbow with his free hand. "Narcissa, that's entirely unnecessary," he managed to choke out after swallowing his tea.

But she was insistent. "I will not have him trying to avoid us, Lucius; we're the only people he has to talk to at the moment."

She tried to leave and Lucius tightened his grip on her elbow. "Narcissa," he said firmly, sitting down his teacup, "You are only going to make things worse. He is seventeen years old, and you're his _mother_." How hard was it for her to understand?

Narcissa's look hardened, and she turned to face him squarely. "_You_ will talk with him, then."

Lucius blinked. "Me?"

It seemed she was beginning to like the idea. "Yes, you. You're his father, and it's entirely your fault that he overheard anything at all."

That was absurd. "He does not need us to talk to him," Lucius protested.

But Narcissa was adamant. She leaned down and took hold of his arms, urging him to his feet. "Yes he does, Lucius. You owe him an apology."

Try as he might to argue, there was no reasoning with his wife. Lucius was forced to give in, and found himself trudging unwillingly up the stairs to his son's room.

Draco was sitting in an armchair with a cup of coffee, and upon seeing his father enter the room he rolled his eyes and shrank back into the chair. "Dad, we don't need to have this conversation," he said preemptively.

Lucius made a face. "Unfortunately, your mother insists that I offer you an apology," he replied, crossing the room to lean against the back of the chair opposite his son.

"Well let's imagine that you've already offered it, and I've already accepted. No need for further discussion," Draco suggested firmly.

Lucius smiled slightly. His son certainly had inherited the Malfoy inclination for talking his way out of situations. Lucius himself was not keen on continuing the conversation, but knew that Narcissa would come charging up here and talk to their son herself if she thought he hadn't done an adequate job of it, and he wished to spare the young man that particular chat. "I'm afraid there must at least be the appearance that a conversation has taken place," Lucius told him. "And as I've never been too adept at lying to your mother, that leaves us with one option."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Look, really. It's fine. I'm not traumatized or anything. I'm sorry to hear of your troubles, you have my condolences, let's never mention it again. Just try to remember that I live here, okay?"

"There is no need to be cheeky," Lucius replied coolly. If Draco was trying to ease his own discomfort by humiliating his father, it was not going to work, Lucius decided. The heat rising in his face only made him more resolute. "I am glad to hear the situation has not caused you any distress. In fact, since you are handling it so exceptionally well, I suggest returning to the sitting room, as it pains your mother to think of you hiding away in a corner somewhere."

Draco's cheeks flushed brighter. It was quite clear to both of them that he had absolutely no desire to go back downstairs.

Lucius' remark had its desired effect, and he had no inclination to mortify his son any further. In fact, he'd already begun to regret lashing out at him. Why did he have to do that? Feeling even more uncomfortable than at the start of the conversation, Lucius turned to leave the room.

"Dad?" Draco's voice halted him after a few steps, and Lucius turned to look at his son, who was leaning forward in his seat. "Please don't let mum try to give me a speech about this," he entreated anxiously.

Taking a step back toward him, Lucius assured him, "I believe I have already thwarted that effort." Draco relaxed visibly at that, and bore an expression so grateful that Lucius allowed himself a smile. He was quite ready to leave on that note, and headed once more for the door. "Don't stay up here all day," Lucius told him firmly, making sure he had eye contact with his son before escaping.

While her husband was upstairs, Narcissa had helped herself to some toast, for she did recognize her own need to gain weight, regardless of her husband's motivations.

She jumped when something rapped sharply against the window. Narcissa turned her head quickly and leapt to her feet. The sight that met her made her wish she hadn't eaten anything at all.

Three horned owls were perched on the window-box. It could mean only one thing. With a trembling hand, Narcissa managed to unlatch the window and open it. Immediately, the three owls flew in, and perched themselves on the back of the sofa. The one closest to Narcissa hopped to the end nearest her, holding out its leg. She bit her lip, trying to quell the fear that was rising in her stomach, and took the roll of parchment. The owl gave a satisfied hoot and disappeared out the window. The two remaining owls were looking at her expectantly, but when she reached her hand toward one of the letters, the bird took a nip at her hand. Narcissa flinched and pulled away.

"Pimmle," she said as loudly as she could manage. The elf appeared beside her.

"Mistress?"

"Locate my husband and son, and direct them here, would you?" She tried to keep her tone even, and not betray the apprehension that was forcing her to consider that she might want to sit down.

Narcissa's thoughts were swirling, and she could not bring herself to open her letter just yet. When Lucius and Draco appeared in the room around the same time, she did not need to direct them to the owls. As he passed her, Lucius briefly laid a hand on her arm. The next thing she knew, the two of them had opened their letters and were reading them silently. Her husband's brow furrowed as his eyes swept over the parchment. When he'd finished reading his, he strode over to Draco and unceremoniously took the letter from his hands, scrutinizing its contents. He finally handed it back to his son, with an air of something like satisfaction.

Lucius was suddenly before her. "Open it," he prompted.

With an awful sense of foreboding, Narcissa broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. She read the contents word for word, each one adding a little weight to her chest, until when she'd finally come to the end, she turned the parchment over to her husband and sank down onto the sofa.

Lucius scanned her letter quickly before taking a seat next to her. "It's only a hearing," he verified, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Narcissa nodded emotionlessly. "On Tuesday." It suddenly occurred to her that it was incredibly soon for such proceedings. Was that a good sign? She looked up at Lucius. "Is yours the same day?"

Her husband shook his head. "Draco's is Wednesday. Mine is Thursday." He looked away for a moment, and Narcissa saw a flash of something cross his expression that she didn't particularly like. "It's a good sign, though, that they're calling it a hearing."

Something about his manner did not sit well with Narcissa. "Are they all the same, with the exception of the date?"

Lucius pursed his lips, and resented his wife's knack for asking the right questions. "Not all," he said slowly. He glanced over at Draco, who met his gaze with an uneasy countenance. "Mine was worded a bit differently," he revealed. Narcissa tensed, and Draco came closer, seating himself on the arm of the loveseat. Lucius took a quiet breath before continuing. "They'll be holding a _public_ hearing, in my case."

Narcissa's stomach clenched into a little ball. "A trial," she whispered, barely able to form the word. Anger and fear began to bubble to the surface of her emotions, and she found her voice again. "Isn't it? A diplomatic way of saying its a trial?"

Her husband moved a steadying hand to her knee. "I am not surprised," Lucius said stoically. "I'm an escaped felon. The mere fact that they're calling it a hearing is a blessing."

In the last few days, life had begun to feel almost normal again, and Narcissa had allowed her guard to drop. Now, she realized that the threat of danger was still looming right above them, and it blackened and smothered any happiness that had begun to flourish in an inky cloud of dread.

The demeanor in the house was somber the rest of the day. The idea that they could have been caught up in some kind of normal family drama just this morning seemed absurd. When it came time for bed, Narcissa laid awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. She had just resigned herself to staying awake all night when she felt her husband's hand find her arm. "You're awake," he observed softly, moving closer to her.

Narcissa looked at him. His gray eyes were soft, watching her with something between concern and compassion. Wordlessly, she turned on her side and nestled herself against his chest. Lucius' arms wrapped around her, and they lay like that for a while.

The proximity of his wife's body was beginning to carry his thoughts in a direction Lucius had not intended. Narcissa shifted slightly, and the movement delighted his senses. He strictly redirected his thoughts; his wife needed comfort, and he was not going to trouble her on a subject upon which he already knew her feelings.

But her arm slinked around his waist, and he couldn't help reveling in the feeling. And now she was sliding her leg between his... Lucius felt his heart begin to race as he realized he could not possibly be misreading her intent. He tipped her face up toward him, and she brushed a gentle kiss against his lips. Lucius did not require any more temptation. He lost himself in a blur of movement, threading his fingers through her silky hair and running his other hand over her body, trying to rediscover every inch of her. Narcissa was pliant against him, pouring out her need and her love with soft kisses and brushes of skin. As their desire grew hot and unendurable they kissed harder, tangling their bodies together desperately. The few articles of clothing that inhibited them were carelessly pushed aside. Lucius climbed over her, lowering himself between her legs to meet her body, and in a surge of ardor he pressed himself inside of her, gasping as her body seemed to take hold of him. Narcissa wrapped her arms around his neck and there was nothing but her, her lips hard against his, her thighs cradling his hips, her breaths and her movements and the heat, oh the heat... Their bodies brushed together and her back arched and they became one flesh, with nothing existing but the urgent desire that sealed them together in a torrent of caresses and motion. They slowly built to a crescendo and lost all control, as waves of ecstasy overtook them and rolled through them until they were finally let back down to earth, entwined in each other and panting for breath.

Lucius let his head fall to her chest and collapsed into her arms. They gasped together for a few moments, unable to move, let alone speak. At last Narcissa began to stroke his hair, holding him tenderly against her chest as their breathing slowed and her thoughts slowly became coherent once more. An incredible wave of love for this man flooded through her, a warm surge, rising through her body and drawing tears from her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to be this close to him for the rest of her life.

And without warning, a lump formed in her throat. Her feelings of bliss began a gradual downward slide that quickly sped out of her control and plummeted her into despair as if thrown into freezing water. They would take him away from her. They would steal him away from her, and she would never get him back. She stopped stroking his hair and held him tighter, clenching her jaw and holding her breath to keep from completely losing her faculties.

Lucius lifted his head and kissed her chest, slipping from between her legs onto his side. His wife was in a state of beautiful disarray, with her hair spread out over the pillow, nightgown twisted haphazardly up around her waist and slipped off of one shoulder. She turned slightly and reached for him, and Lucius took her in his arms, pressing a kiss against the flushed skin of her cheek. Her body trembled, and she curled up close to him. The ecstasy of their exertion was falling away from him as well, transforming into a deeper, more tender, more significant, but no less ardent emotion that made him clasp her against him and cherish the feeling of her delicate figure enveloped in his embrace. When her body began to shudder and he felt her tears soaking through his pajama shirt he said nothing, but merely closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair, squeezing her more tightly to him, letting her take refuge in the strength of his arms around her. The same fear he knew was gripping his wife threatened to invade his consciousness, but he warded it off with the intense devotion he was feeling for Narcissa. He would not let anything take this time with her away from him.

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><p><em>AN: So there you go. Lucius finally gets his wish. This was my first time writing something like this (normally I leave most of it to the imagination), so hopefully it went well. _:)_ Leave me a review, it makes me so happy! And stay tuned for chapter seven!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I'm addicted to writing this story. Just so you are all aware. Here's chapter seven!_

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><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you."<p>

"Oh, shut up," Draco snapped at the little marble knight in front of him. Wizard's chess had never been a favorite game of his; he much preferred games that didn't belittle him when he made a mistake. Of course, if he had taken the time to play more often in his youth, then his pieces might not have found so much fault in his strategies.

Lucius was smirking; he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the running commentary by Draco's pieces. "It's right, you know," Lucius commented.

Draco looked across the board at his father. Under different circumstances, Draco might have felt embarrassed to be so perplexed in front of him. Lucius always set the bar high and expected his son to excel in pretty much everything - which, of course, often left him disappointed. Draco had learned at a rather young age that facing his father's disappointment was an unpleasant experience, and had therefore made it something of a lifelong endeavor to avoid encountering it. When it came to chess, though, Lucius had never been disappointed in his son's lack of skill. Draco knew his father derived quite a bit of pleasure from thoroughly defeating him at the game; in fact, his father's insufferable attitude following such victories was a major contributor to Draco's dislike of the game.

Today, though, Draco was focused on enjoying himself and not on winning, and he reminded himself of that fact firmly as he regarded his father's smug expression. "You're just trying to get in my head," Draco responded with grin, returning his gaze to the board.

"It's possible," Lucius conceded, with just the right amount of craftiness in his voice to make Draco glance up at him again. Lucius was still smiling. "Then again, I could be trying to prolong your eventual defeat."

Draco shook his head and looked at his pieces. "Bishop to A3," he ordered, deciding to ignore the advice.

The bishop obeyed, marching across the board. "Knight to D6," Lucius said without hesitating, and the piece galloped across the board and knocked out Draco's rook. "Check," he announced.

Draco's cheeks flushed, and his knight commented, "I saw that one coming."

"Well why didn't you say so?" Draco demanded in frustration, hating the little figure.

"I recall being ordered to 'shut up'," the knight retorted pompously.

Before Draco could come up with an answer, the conversation was interrupted by a resounding chime that seemed to come from the front hall. The sound made the young man freeze, as he recalled from when his grandfather lived here that the bell announced the presence of someone coming through the front gate. With a sense of foreboding, he lifted his eyes to look at his father, who stared back at him for a long moment with every trace of amusement gone from his expression. Without a word, Lucius rose from his chair and strode toward the door. Draco leapt to his feet and followed.

In the hallway, his mother bolted out of the study and came face to face with Lucius. She looked apprehensive, but shut the door behind her and led the short distance down the hall toward the front door. Draco floated along behind his parents, hardly aware of what was happening. Who could be coming to the door? Could it be the Minister? Or a friend come to give them news? ..._Or_ could it be someone still faithful to the cause, coming to show them what happens to traitors...?

Whoever it was knocked, and Pimmle immediately appeared in front of the doorway just as they all reached the entrance hall. The elf reached up opened the door.

A small crowd of people stood in the doorway. A taller, dark-haired man who Draco vaguely recognized stood to the front. The man nodded to them. "Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa was in full aristocratic mode, holding herself quite tall and speaking formally. "Good afternoon, Mr. Robards," she said, "What can we do for you?" Before he had a chance to speak she added, "Do come in, all of you. No need to linger in doorways."

So his parents did know who these people were. Draco wracked his mind for where he'd seen the man before, but came up with nothing. He did notice, though, that this 'Robards' was holding a roll of parchment at his side, and that Lucius' expression had become mask-like.

Rather awkwardly, the five people came into the entrance hall. Robards came in first, followed by a man Draco recognized as Amos Diggory, then another man and a woman he did not recognize at all, and then... revealing himself from behind them all, came Harry Bloody Potter himself. The Golden Boy did not look at him, but was watching the elder two Malfoys with an unhappy expression. The room suddenly felt too warm, and Draco felt his pulse double its speed in a matter of seconds.

Robards began to speak again before Narcissa could say anything else, addressing Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid it has fallen to me to bring you some... unpleasant news." The tall man seemed uncomfortable, but continued. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been reviewing your case for the past few days, and it has become apparent to us that, regardless of any actions taken by you and your family during the recent conflict, the fact remains that you are currently classified as an escapee, evading a life sentence in Azkaban." Draco swallowed, feeling his insides twisting painfully as he watched in horror. His father was looking very pale, but had not changed his expression. "The Ministry has turned a blind eye to your former offenses to this point, but now we find it necessary that you be detained until the date of your hearing." Mr. Robards took a step forward, unrolled the parchment he held, and presented it to Lucius. Draco watched his father take the parchment and gaze down at it stoically. "I have orders to take you into custody," Robards explained.

Draco suddenly noticed that all of their guests, with the exception of Potter, had drawn their wands and held them loosely at their sides. He looked at his parents - his father had not taken his eyes from the notice he held; his mother was staring stonily at Robards. Finally Lucius lifted his face, holding the paper out to Robards, who took it back without taking his eyes off Lucius.

"Presently we have but one wand in this household," Lucius said icily, holding Robards' gaze. "I trust you will allow me to leave it with my wife."

The man nodded curtly, "Of course." Draco suddenly recognized him; he was the wizard who'd become head of the Auror Department when his father had been arrested the first time. A swell of hatred flushed Draco's face at the memory.

Lucius took the wand from his inside pocket and turned to Narcissa. He handed it to her, keeping his eyes fixed on the wand for a long moment before looking up at her. Narcissa's facial expression was neutral, but her eyes were burning with the same desperation Draco had seen in them that morning in the Forbidden Forest. For a moment he wondered if they weren't going to fling themselves at each other as they had that morning, but of course they did no such thing. Lucius said nothing, he did not even touch her. He briefly turned his eyes to Draco, who felt his breath catch in his throat, before slowly turning back to the Aurors.

"If the Ministry insists, then of course I shall accompany you," Lucius said deferentially, with a slight bow of his head. "Lead the way."

Draco was seized with the incredible urge to do _something_, anything, to stop them from taking his father, but could think of nothing to do that would help. His hand twitched toward the pocket where his wand should be, and remembered with another flash of anger that his wand was likely in the room at this very moment, in Potter's possession.

Robards looked relieved, and turned to look back at the others. "Proudfoot?"

The man Draco did not recognize stepped forward. "This way, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius stepped forward, and Proudfoot and the woman flanked him, ushering him toward the door. Mr. Diggory led the way out, followed by the two Aurors and Lucius. Robards regarded the two remaining Malfoys and said, "We'll be seeing you soon. Mrs. Malfoy. Draco." The man nodded to the two of them, finally acknowledging the younger man's presence, before turning to go out.

Potter followed a step, then hesitated. He waited until the others were fully out the door, and then looked at Narcissa again. His mere presence made Draco's blood boil. Why the fuck was Potter here, anyway?

"Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, his voice apologetic, "...I want you to know that I'm doing everything I can." He paused and took a breath. "I'm sorry about this."

Narcissa was regarding him with a strange, drawn expression. "I appreciate that, Mr. Potter," she replied, her voice quiet and strained.

The exchange left Draco feeling slightly bewildered. Potter nodded to Narcissa, finally looked at Draco and nodded quickly, before hurrying out of the house. For some reason, as they stood in silence, all Draco could think of was how he'd smashed Potter's face in last time his father had been arrested. The memory was not as satisfying as it once had been. Who could he beat to a bloody pulp this time? No one. And damn it if he was going to have to be _grateful_ to Harry Effing Potter... ...as if he wasn't already indebted to the jerk...

Draco could not stand still another minute. He stalked into the parlor, feeling ready to hit the ceiling. As he passed the table where he and his father had been playing, his incorrigible knight called out, "Sir, we're waiting for your or-"

"SHUT UP!" Draco exploded at the chess piece. "You can bloody wait there until my father comes home!" As he spoke the words, his chest tightened with emotion. _If_ his father came home.

He paced to the other side of the room and turned back to see his mother standing in the doorway. Her stony expression only made him angrier. "How could he let this happen?" Draco barked at her, not caring that he'd never spoken to her like that in his life. "How could he just walk into prison, why didn't he even try to do anything?" He stormed back and forth across the room. "Why doesn't ANYONE try to do something? You just stood there!" he turned his rage to her. He couldn't stand how calm she was; he needed to break something, throw something, smash something to pieces. "How could you just stand there?" His hand had landed on the back of the armchair, and he shoved it backwards with a loud _thunk_.

"DRACO L..." Narcissa had begun a harsh rebuke, but cut off abruptly. Draco recognized that she'd been about to use his full name, something she never did, but had been unable to make herself say his middle name. 'Lucius.' He watched her swallow the lump in her throat, and immediately regretted screaming at her. Her eyes were red with unshed tears when she dictated in low, gravelly voice, "Stop it. Now."

His emotions were entirely out of his control, and it was beginning to frighten him. His rage had cooled but he was now swept away by an overwhelming sense of desolation. He took several deep breaths, but could not calm himself, and let himself sink toward the ground. Narcissa was suddenly next to him, and crouched down. "Stand up," she said sharply, taking hold of his arms tightly and pulling him to his feet. Draco was startled by her severity. His mother had his arms in a relentless grip, forcing him to look at her. She spoke in a quiet, forceful voice. "You will pick up the chair. You will do whatever it takes to pull yourself together. You are a gentleman, Draco. You are a Slytherin. You are a Malfoy. You are _my son_," she growled, bruising his arms with her grip. "You are your father's son," she continued, her voice softening. "And you will get through this."

His mother's gaze was unwavering. Draco noticed he was trembling slightly, and for a moment he rebelled against her words - he wanted to be comforted, he didn't want to be strong! But he looked at Narcissa, and realized that he had no choice but to man up. His poor mum was suffering incredibly, but she was not going to give in to it, and neither could he. For his father's sake, and for his mother's sake, he had to be brave.

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><p><em>AN: A wedding-week update! Now, the next one seriously might not be here for a little while - too much bachelorette partying/rehearsal dinnering/bridesmaiding for writing fanfic. But never fear, for the next chapter will be here before you know it - and until then... leave me lovely reviews! _:D


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait - but the wedding was beautiful :) and now I have a sister! Yay! And here is chapter 8!_

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><p>Narcissa spent the next couple of days trying to imagine what kinds of questions the Wizangamot would ask them at these hearings, and preparing how she would answer, though she usually burst into tears in the middle of this exercise. The way she saw it, with the exception of her betrayal in the Forest, all the evidence against them was quite ruinous. She clung to the notion that saving the life of Harry Potter might pardon anything else she had done; and while this thought did not seem impossible, it also did not help with the defense of her husband and her son.<p>

She had urged Draco to prepare himself mentally for the hearing. He'd told her that he was ready and not to worry about it, but Narcissa could not help but worry. It was all she did. She had immediately written to the Ministry after Lucius' arrest, asking if she would be able to visit him and when. She'd received an owl just this morning, two days later, saying that, depending on the outcome of her own hearing, she would be able to see her husband briefly before his hearing on Thursday.

Draco had also received an owl this morning. The moment he had seen it, he'd frowned. Narcissa had been too distracted with her own letter to question him about it, but now that she'd read hers, she looked over at her son. He was still frowning.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked him.

Draco answered without looking up. "It's Pansy."

Narcissa felt a twinge of sympathy; she recalled seeing Mr. Parkinson listed in the Daily Prophet under the same heading as Bellatrix. "How is she?"

Her son folded the letter in half. "She's upset. Her father died." He stood up and walked to the fireplace, ripped the letter in half and tossed it in. Narcissa watched with shock as the parchment curled up and blackened in the fire. Draco looked over at her. "I suppose it wouldn't be the best time to break things off with her, would it?"

Narcissa's eyes widened slightly. "Probably not." She'd never heard any indication from him that he wanted to break up with the girl before this. Not that it troubled her immensely, she had never been particularly fond of the Parkinson girl, but still, they had been dating for years. "Why do you want to break it off?"

Draco crossed his arms and shrugged. "I don't know. She's just... She doesn't get it." He shrugged again. "I can't really trust her."

It was not an eloquent explanation, but Narcissa thought she understood what he meant. Pansy was immature and rather flaky. Draco had been forced into adulthood long ago, and she was still a schoolgirl.

Narcissa did find it a little strange that Draco did not at least empathize with Pansy, since at the moment they had both lost their fathers. Perhaps though, she mused, Draco did not want to think about the possibility of his own loss becoming permanent. Narcissa tried to avoid the idea as well.

More often than ever, Narcissa's thoughts went to her living sister. She was sometimes seized by the irrational fear that in some poetically justified way, her life would be made to mirror Andromeda's: her husband and her child would be taken from her forever, and she would be shunned by most of society and forced to live out her days alone. Narcissa always shook these thoughts off and told herself they were completely preposterous, but she was nonetheless plagued by them. The only solution she could see was to reconcile with her sister, and thereby eliminate the fear of being alone.

Narcissa could not deny that the idea was at once enticing and terrifying. When they were young, Anny had been her confidante and best friend. During their school years they had drifted apart a bit, but Anny had always been the sister she had gone to for advice and comfort. Bella had been the one to go to for protection. But right before Andromeda had left, she and Narcissa had fought viciously. Twenty-six years later, Narcissa was still troubled by the fact that they had never made up. She was quite sure that Andromeda probably had not forgotten about the things they had said to each other, and that she more than likely still harbored some ill feelings about it.

Besides her sister's hostility, Narcissa had other reasons for avoiding an encounter with Andromeda. The Minister of Magic had ordered them to go home and remain easy to find. She had no inclination to let the Ministry know that she was trying to reconcile with her sister. She also did not relish the idea of telling her son where she was going. Narcissa knew that nothing but pride was holding her back, but she couldn't bring herself to let anyone know what she was feeling. Approaching Andromeda would have to be done in secret. And for now, she could not go anywhere secretly. Spending a year at the Dark Lord's beck and call had taught her that if you are told to be somewhere, you had better be there.

For his part, Draco spent his hours trying to think of anything and everything he could testify to that might save his parents. Where his mother was concerned, he could think of dozens of reasons that she should be found innocent. For his father, though, he could not think of a single instance that showed any manner of disloyalty to the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy was quite guilty. The thought made Draco sick, but he ignored it as much as possible. He had to be strong.

The day before his mother's hearing, Draco was faced with something that made his heart skip a beat: an owl, perched on the window box outside the sitting room. It was not Pansy's owl, nor did it belong to the Malfoys. It looked similar to the owls they had received the day before Lucius was taken away. When he let it in, he examined the outside of the letter, which was addressed to Narcissa. Draco sprinted toward the hall.

"Mum!" he shouted up the stairs. "There's an owl here for you!"

He heard a door open, and his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. "Do you recognize it?" she asked, buttoning the cuffs of her robes as she descended.

"It looks like it could be from the Ministry," Draco replied. Narcissa's mouth tightened, and she headed for the sitting room. He followed at her heels. She took the letter from the owl without hesitation, and immediately broke the seal.

"It _is_ from the Ministry," she said quickly, and opened the parchment. Her eyes scanned over the contents swiftly. Without taking her eyes off the parchment, she reached back to place a hand on the arm of the sofa, lowering herself into the seat. Draco watched her breathlessly, unable to bear the tension. His mother suddenly gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.

He crossed the room in a single bound and seated himself next to her. "What is it?" he implored.

There were tears in her eyes. She held the parchment out toward him so that he could read it, too.

_Dear Mrs. Malfoy,_

_In the pre-hearing proceedings regarding your case, evidence has been set forth of such a nature as to give pause to the litigations. After much careful consideration, the testimony of one Mr. Harry James Potter has been accepted as irrefutable fact by the Wizangamot. The implications of this testimony have moved the Court to reassess the necessity of a hearing regarding the matter. In the spirit of amity and fairness, the matter was put to vote, and the Court elected unanimously to offer you a full pardon for any offenses committed whilst in the service of the Dark Lord Voldemort, contingent upon a five-year probationary period, the details of which will be settled within the next ten days. You will not be required to testify before the Wizangamot._

_The Department of Magical Law Enforcement will contact you by owl._

_Best regards,_

_Eleanor Higgins  
><em>_Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic_

Draco looked over at her excitedly. "But, that's great!" he exclaimed, putting a hand on her shoulder. This was the best news they could possibly have hoped for! So why was his mother staring at the letter with a bemused expression? "Mum, this is wonderful; they've granted you a _full pardon_! What's the matter?"

Narcissa shook her head slowly. "I just can't believe it," she said. "It's too good to be true."

He squeezed her arm. "But it is true. It's got the official seal on it!"

Her son was right. She was holding an official, Ministry-sealed document that said she was free. _She was free._

Draco moved his hand to her back when he saw a tear roll down her cheek. "Mum..." He didn't know how to react to what he was seeing. Narcissa finally smiled, and looked over at him. Her smile was not forced, as it had been for so many months, but it was also not the radiant smile he had known her to wear before the war. He wished that for once he could see her smile without any trace of tears or sorrow in her eyes.

Narcissa hugged her son tightly, and he returned her embrace. "I just wish the letter was for you," she told him, kissing his cheek.

Draco held his mother close. He didn't wish for a moment that it had been for him. If any of the three of them deserved to go free, it was his mother. She hadn't branded her body with the Dark Lord's insignia; she hadn't tortured and killed innocent people.

Besides, now he knew that he would not be attending his hearing alone. He'd been wondering for days what he would do if they decided to take his mother into custody after her hearing. Now he could as least be sure that Narcissa would be there for him on Wednesday. He had long since given up the childish notion that his parents could keep him safe, but he still knew that he would feel less nervous with her there.

Narcissa kissed his cheek again. "I'll be happy once we've gotten two more letters like this."

Draco said nothing. He had no idea if he or his father would have the same good fortune. What he did know was that if he was not so lucky, this might be one of the last few times he would get a hug from his mother.

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><p><em>Author's Note: It's a short one, but the next one is going to be loooooong. I already have it halfway written. :) Leave me reviews and it shall be here even faster! ;)<em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: So, I know I promised you a looooong chapter, but you will find that this is not a looooong chapter. :( I'm sorry. But I decided to split it into two parts, as it was getting way too looooong. I hope you can forgive me._

_Enjoy chapter 9!_

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><p>Narcissa knocked and went into Draco's room, where she found him sitting in the window sill. He turned his head toward her. "Mum," he greeted her, eyeing her attire, "Are you going out?"<p>

"I am," she replied. She felt guilty leaving him alone today of all days, when his hearing was tomorrow, but she could not shake the feeling that if she didn't make this trip now, she might never make it at all.

Draco looked downcast at this news. "How long will you be gone?"

Narcissa considered the question for a moment. She honestly had no idea how to answer him. This could take hours, but if things went poorly... perhaps only a few minutes. Deciding to air on the side of caution, she answered, "Probably a few hours." She smoothed his hair affectionately. "I'm sorry, Draco, but this is something I need to do." He sighed, and she patted his shoulder. "I can have Pimmle bring your tea up here later, if you want. Shall I?"

Her son shrugged. "Sure."

She kissed the top of his head. "Will you be all right?"

Draco crossed his arms. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm fine," he repeated unconvincingly.

As much as she regretted leaving him alone, Narcissa could not give up this one opportunity she had. She bid her son farewell and left the house, walking down the path until she came to the gate. Adrenaline was surging through her veins, and she was not altogether convinced that she was prepared for the encounter she was headed toward. But she was a free woman - not guilty of war crimes, not held in fear by any dark wizard - and her son was stuck at home, her husband detained. It was now or never.

Narcissa went through the gate, and took out the wand Lucius had left her. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Thanks to the Death Eaters who had made her home their base for the last year, Narcissa had been privy to the suspected locations of Order of the Phoenix safe-houses. One in particular had interested her.

She landed at the bottom of a path that led up to a cottage smaller than the one in which her family currently resided. A murky pond was situated ahead to her left, and a small vegetable garden was visible at the side of the house. It was a very plain residence, but did not seem unlivable. Narcissa took this all in, and nervously began up the path to the front door. Each step took a great amount of effort, and she repeatedly went over in her head what she planned to say. By the time she reached the doorstep she was afraid she might be sick.

Nevertheless, she had come this far, and she was not about to flee now. She lifted a shaky hand and knocked on the door.

It felt like hours until Narcissa finally heard some movement in the house. Someone was coming down the stairs, they were walking to the door, unlocking it... She swallowed as the door opened a few inches, and a thin, pale face peered out at her.

The woman's big brown eyes widened as they met hers. For a long moment, Narcissa was frozen; she could not breathe, she could not move, even her heart seemed to stop dead.

The door abruptly opened wider, and it gave her a start. Everything she had prepared to say somehow receded to the back of her mind and refused to be recalled. The only thing her mind would allow was to notice how much older sister looked since the last time she'd laid eyes on her.

Andromeda was staring at her with an expression that was not at all welcoming. "What do you want?" she finally asked, her voice abrupt and distant.

Narcissa opened her mouth, but no words came out. Here in the presence of her estranged sister, things were much less simple than they had seemed in her contemplations. Still, she had to say something, and she had already allowed too much of a pause in the conversation. "I wanted to speak to you," she said quietly.

Her sister crossed her arms. "Really? That's a sudden change of tune." Her eyes were narrowed and hostile.

Narcissa took in her sister's venom and tried to continue in spite of it. "I would have sent an owl, but I wanted to speak to you in person. And I thought you might refuse to see me if I asked to visit you," she admitted.

Andromeda pursed her lips. "You were probably right."

The younger witch nodded slightly, swallowing. "May I come in?"

She scrutinized her younger sister for a long moment, before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I'm not in the habit of inviting strangers into my home these days."

Her words stung Narcissa, who took another steadying breath. "Anny, there's something very particular I need to tell you."

The use of her childhood nickname had no effect. Andromeda raised her eyebrows impatiently. "Tell me, then. I might listen."

Narcissa bit her lip, before deciding to plunge ahead. "I will not pretend to you that I am entirely a victim in our estrangement. You know how we were brought up." There was no hint of familiarity in the cold look she was getting from Andromeda. Narcissa could feel her insides writhing with misgivings as she prepared to tell her sister something she had never revealed to anyone. "But I think you should know... I have not had the freedom to approach you."

Her older sister's expression remained cold. "Of course. You wanted to keep your inheritance and your place in society. That's always been more important to the Blacks than familial compassion. I already knew that, Narcissa."

"No," Narcissa interjected urgently. "You misunderstand me. I mean that I literally _couldn't_ contact you." She swallowed, keeping her emotions tamped down. Somehow she had hoped that Anny would make this easier.

Narcissa took a breath, and the story began pouring out of her mouth. "I wanted to see you, Anny. I wanted to apologize for fighting with you, and for some foolish reason I still cannot fathom to this day, I told Bellatrix. And she flew into a rage," Narcissa recalled. The memory of her oldest sister's wrath was as clear to her now as it had been that day. She looked at Andromeda. "You know what she was like. She threatened to tell mother and father; she threatened all sorts of things, but when I wouldn't back down, she took matters into her own hands.

"Bella hexed me," Narcissa finally revealed. "I don't know what spell she cast, and all she would tell me was that I would be very, very sorry if I ever tried to see you or speak to you again." She could feel tears trying to force their way into her eyes, and she looked away, shaking her head. "I never did discover what she'd done. And I wasn't brave enough to test it."

There was a long silence as Narcissa stared at the ground, somehow feeling even sicker than before. Would her sister believe her? Her eyes remained fixed on the ground until finally Andromeda spoke. "And now, here you are."

Her sister's voice had softened enough that Narcissa lifted her eyes. "Bella's dead," she stated by way of explanation.

For the first time, Anny's expression was conflicted. The malice in her eyes was now permeated with sadness, and perhaps... sympathy? Narcissa wasn't sure, but knew better than to push any further - it was Anny's move.

Andromeda seemed at a loss for words. She began to say something, but stopped. Her attention had turned toward a sound coming from inside the house: a baby crying. The sound was very faint, but Narcissa could see the effect it had on her sister. Anny hesitated, torn between the wailing infant and the important conversation she was having, but finally sighed, "Come in."

She opened the door the whole way, and Narcissa stepped over the threshold into the cottage. It was brighter inside than she had expected. Andromeda shut the door behind her, and led the way to the sitting room across the hall. "Have a seat," she said in a tired voice, gesturing into the room. "I'll be right back."

Narcissa watched her sister trot up the stairs. She had forgotten how much Anny resembled their eldest sister. Her lighter brown hair was less wild, pulled back in a loose knot, but her shape and build were almost identical to Bellatrix.

Narcissa let out a quiet sigh. Anny had let her into the house, which meant, she presumed, that she was willing to speak to her. That was good. Still, as difficult as it had been getting admittance to the house, Narcissa suspected that they had not yet gotten to the most difficult part of their conversation.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Well, it certainly felt good to get that off of Narcissa's chest. AndromedaNarcissa conversation (confrontation?) part II coming soon! Review please!_ :)


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Here it is. I've rewritten this, and I mean COMPLETELY rewritten this, three times. I hope it does not disappoint._

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><p>Narcissa went into Andromeda's sitting room as she had asked, which appeared to be furnished simply but tastefully beneath a thin layer of clutter. She picked up a Daily Prophet off the sofa and stacked it on a nearby pile of books to create a space to sit. The sound of the baby crying had already quieted. Narcissa bit her lip. What was she doing here? What was she going to say to Anny when she came back down? It wasn't as though she was prepared to offer an apology for their separation; on the contrary, she still harbored a good deal of bitterness about the whole ordeal, though she knew it would be in poor taste to start a quarrel.<p>

Her mind spiraled in this manner for several minutes, coming to no conclusions, until she heard Anny coming back down the stairs. When she reappeared in the doorway, and spoke in a hushed voice. "If you don't mind, we should move elsewhere - this room is right below the baby."

The baby. Narcissa stood and followed Anny as she led the way to the kitchen. The mention of the baby was a sharp reminder that Anny's daughter had recently been killed. Narcissa knew she should say something, offer her condolences, but she couldn't come up with the right words. Andromeda took a seat at the kitchen table and gestured for Narcissa to do the same. "I don't know what I was thinking, but Teddy's such a light sleeper that it would be pretty much impossible to have a conversation in the sitting room without waking him," Andromeda said conversationally.

Narcissa nodded. "Draco was a fussy baby, too."

Andromeda pursed her lips. "Well, the last few weeks have been a bit hard for poor Teddy," she said. The undertone in her voice was bitter. Narcissa felt the tension rise between them, and could not think of what to say. Clearly, she was not off the hook.

"So," Anny continued after a significant pause, "Dear Bellatrix kept you from seeing me." Narcissa nodded. "But if you were so desperate to talk to me, you could have sent an owl. I don't recall receiving any letters."

Narcissa felt her face flushing. "By the same token, if you cared to, you could just as easily have sent letters to me."

Andromeda shook her head. "Any letter I sent to the house would never have reached you, Narcissa, you know that."

"But I had two whole years left at Hogwarts," Narcissa countered _very_ politely. "I came of age that December. Mother and father had no control over me there, you could have reached me."

Andromeda's cheeks had flushed as well. "Fair enough," she asserted, "we had equal opportunity. But I had no reason to believe you wanted to hear from me. In fact, I recall you having nothing but harsh words for me the last time we spoke."

Narcissa folded her hands very tightly and pursed her lips. "I would have appreciated a letter. It was rather difficult after you left." She let it at that. She was not going to give her sister a sob story about how miserable and scared she'd been; about how their parents had almost not let her go back to Hogwarts, and how she'd only narrowly escaped being forced into marriage with a man she couldn't bear that Christmas, before she'd even finished sixth year. She kept these facts to herself, and moved ahead with the conversation. "My real reason for wanting to talk to you was to apologize for our argument." Narcissa forced herself to look into Anny's eyes. "It never occurred to me that those would be our parting words."

Narcissa's contrition seemed to have little effect on her sister. "What difference does it make whether or not they were the last thing you said to me?" Andromeda replied. "You still said them. You still meant it."

"I was upset," she answered.

"You meant it, Narcissa; I know you well enough to know that," Andromeda argued. "You couldn't bear to think that I would have a child of what you considered to be objectionable lineage."

"No!" Narcissa actually raised her voice a little bit. "I mean, at the time perhaps, but..." She bit her lip to keep from losing control of her emotions, and stared at her hands. As a sixteen-year-old girl, she had vehemently urged her sister to get rid of the Mudblood child in her womb, but lineage had not been her motivation for the argument, not _really_. "You were leaving me, Anny. You abandoned me for someone else; that was how it felt, and I wasn't old enough to really understand-"

"You were sixteen years old!" her sister retorted angrily, "Plenty old enough to understand what I was going through!"

"I _didn't_, though, Anny. How could I possibly have understood? I'd had little experience with men, nothing of substance, nothing that could possibly have induced me to fling aside my beliefs and my family and everyone I loved!"

"I loved _him_, Narcissa! I loved him, and I loved my child." Andromeda's eyes were red, but no tears fell.

Narcissa's voice suddenly lowered to a whisper. "I know." She looked her sister straight in the eyes, trying not to cry herself. "I would have had it differently, but at least I understand that much. You did the right thing, given your circumstances," she admitted quietly. Having fallen in love and borne a child of her own, Narcissa could see why her sister had made the choices she did. "And I've understood that for some time now."

Andromeda stared at her, slowly shaking her head. "I wouldn't have had it any different."

Her younger sister did not break the gaze. "I know."

Andromeda sniffed, looking away for a long moment. "And it's taken you twenty-five years to admit that much." She looked back to Narcissa with a nasty glint in her eyes. "Well, you've got your wish, Narcissa. They're both gone." There was an overwhelming depth of grief in her voice beneath the bitterness.

Narcissa felt her emotions squeezing her throat shut, and she struggled to take a deep breath. "I would never have wished this upon you."

"You did when I left."

A contradiction rose on her lips, but she couldn't put it into words. She could not deny that she'd wished them gone when she had first discovered their existence. Narcissa took several moments to formulate a response. Her eyes were burning with tears that she refused to let fall. "I said a lot of things that day. And I cannot deny that at the moment I said them, I probably meant them." A single tear dripped down her face, and she quickly brushed it away, angry that she couldn't control herself. She took a shaky breath and returned her gaze to her sister. "But I am not cruel enough to wish this kind of pain upon you; you must believe that."

Andromeda's cheeks were flushed with emotion. "I don't know what to believe," she answered, though her tone was less brutal than before. "Your friends were the ones that killed them."

"That's not true," Narcissa flatly denied. "The Death Eaters are no friends of mine."

Her sister laughed humorlessly. "No? Your own dear husband is a leading member, unless I am mistaken."

Narcissa bristled at the flippant mention of Lucius. "_Was_," she corrected her, "Some time ago. But not recently, and his affiliation with those people by no means made them my friends."

"Really. You aren't friends with the Averys or with Rabastan or Roddie? Or Bellatrix?" she ended viciously. The way she said the name made very clear that she knew who had killed her daughter.

Narcissa's stomach was clenched so tightly that she actually wondered if she was going to be sick. Nevertheless, she answered her sister as calmly as she could. "I have not said more than three words in passing to Eric and Lettice Avery in the last few years. I have been ignored by Rabastan and Rodolphus ever since my husband was arrested; they had no wish to associate themselves with me. And I equally have avoided company in general. The only people I can claim to have trusted in the last few years have been Lucius and my son. And Severus," she added. She swallowed, and prepared to tackle the final hurdle. "And as for Bellatrix... We couldn't be friends; she was just... it was like she wasn't in there anymore. When she came back from Azkaban, she wasn't the same."

Andromeda shook her head. "You actually make excuses for her. I shouldn't be surprised."

"I'm not excusing her actions," Narcissa retorted. "But you must understand that there is a distinction between Bellatrix, the Dark Lord's most faithful, and our sister Bella."

"I am under no obligation to 'understand' anything!" Andromeda snarled back. "The truth of the matter is that she targeted Nymphadora because she was my daughter. The bitch killed my little girl, and I'm not about to swallow any of the thestral-shit you perpetuate about her to make yourself feel better!"

A surge of something like anger swelled up in Narcissa, and she couldn't suppress the impulse to snap back. "Believe what you want to believe, then. But I know the truth, and I refuse to accept that the sister I grew up with would have encouraged me to sacrifice my son's life to the Dark Lord's cause."

"People change," was Andromeda's harsh response. Her eyes met Narcissa's unflinchingly.

Narcissa could not bear the accusing gaze, and she looked away. Andromeda was putting up a more unmerciful front than she had been prepared to deal with. She had already made her cry, which Narcissa had promised herself she wouldn't do. And there was too much truth to many of the things her sister was saying - she certainly had not been prepared for that.

Andromeda began to speak again, a bit softer and more tired-sounding than before. "Narcissa, why are you here?" Her stare was critical, deciding what to make of the younger witch. "You've had no inclination to acknowledge my existence for the last quarter century, regardless of anything Bellatrix might have done to you. And you may once have felt sorry for the unpleasantries we exchanged right before I left, but you have yet to actually apologize for _anything_ at all, and knowing you I can only assume that you have no intention of doing so. What do you want from me?"

The younger of the two witches slowly forced herself to meet her sister's eyes, struggling all the while to keep her composure. "I want to be your sister," she answered in a meek voice that she did not recognize as her own.

Her words visibly affected Andromeda, who stared at her for a long moment before choking back a sob that shuddered through her body. She rose from the table slowly, wrapping her arms around herself and placing a hand over her mouth as she turned to look out the bay window. "It's too soon," she said, keeping her voice admirably smooth. "The wounds are too fresh, Narcissa; I can't do this now."

"Better too soon than too late," Narcissa answered. She was staring at the back of her sister's head, but she was sure that she had succeeded with that statement. "What sort of sister could I ever be to you if I ignored your suffering for a second time?"

Andromeda did not move, save for the rising and falling of her shoulders. Then she slowly turned to partially face her. "Your effort is duly noted," she conceded, "But I can't... Cissy, I just can't." Her expression was tormented. Years of resentment and anger, together with her latest dose of misery, were battling with her obvious curiosity and even a veiled yearning... but perhaps that was only Narcissa's imagination. Andromeda hugged herself tightly, as if she could physically hold her emotions together. "You can't undo what's been done."

Narcissa remained seated, allowing her sister the height advantage. "But I can share your grief," she responded softly, leaning forward.

"_How_ can you? We have lived opposing lives. Your feelings certainly cannot identify with mine." Anny was no longer attacking her; she truly sought an answer.

Did she really believe she was that heartless? Narcissa answered, "Of course I can sympathize with you. I have not yet lost my ability care for the people I love, and to lose them would be devastating."

Andromeda moved a step closer to her. "In that broad sense, yes. But we've been on opposite sides of a war. There are too many complications, and unanswered questions."

Narcissa gazed up at her sister plainly, willing herself to be honest and unafraid. "Ask your questions. I'll answer them."

Her sister shook her head. "That's not..." She faced Narcissa fully, giving up on her argument. "It's not as if I have a list, Narcissa. I mean that it would take the rest of our lives to really understand each other, if it was even possible."

"I'm willing to try," Narcissa answered smoothly.

"Well I'm not sure that I am," Andromeda countered, crossing her arms.

Narcissa was not ready to accept defeat. She leaned forward slightly. "We are not as different as you believe we are," she told her.

Her sister scoffed, "I wouldn't bet on that."

"I rejoiced when the Dark Lord fell, Anny. I lived in fear of him for years, every day wondering if my family was going to survive until the next day. It would only have taken a single wrong move for me to lose my life, or my husband's, or my son's."

"And yet, they managed to survive. But I lost my child, and my husband." There were tears in her eyes again. "And I've never discovered what actually happened to Ted."

Narcissa stared at her sister for a long moment. Was she really asking...? "Anny, we had nothing to do with that," she said firmly.

Her light brown eyes had grown hard again. "Are you certain? Have you been keeping tabs on your own dear husband?"

The color rose in Narcissa's face. "Lucius has been without a wand since last July," she said tersely. "And I have not had mine for several months. I am quite certain."

Andromeda's shoulders sagged, and she nodded. Her eyes found Narcissa's, and she considered her thoughtfully. "Do you love him?" she asked after a long pause.

Narcissa was taken aback by the question. It had come from out of the blue, and she couldn't fathom why it was something that interested Andromeda. "Of course I love him," Narcissa responded. More than life itself, she added inwardly.

Her sister nodded slowly, and returned to her seat. "I only wondered... Marriages of convenience are not unheard of, especially between two of your lineage." Andromeda pressed her lips together, scrutinizing Narcissa. "But if you love him, then perhaps there is a chance of your appreciating my present situation. If you could imagine how it would feel to lose him."

"I have lost him once already," Narcissa reminded her sister. "He was sentenced to life in Azkaban, as I'm sure you know."

Andromeda's arms folded again. "Which he rightly deserved."

A long silence stretched out, in which her words echoed in Narcissa's head. Her cheeks suddenly burned as she stared at her sister, unable to form any words that would not come out as a string of nasty spells aimed directly at her head. Her breathing came heavily, and a little flame of hatred began to burn inside of her.

"Wouldn't you say so?" Andromeda asked rhetorically, seemingly unaffected by Narcissa's reaction. "He did ally himself with a group of escaped felons, break into the Ministry, and attack a group of children, all in an effort to overthrow the government. Surely he knew there would be consequences for that."

Narcissa did not respond. She could not respond.

Her older sister shrugged. "Well, he's managed to avoid his sentence, it would seem. You've got him back."

Shaking her head slowly, Narcissa pursed her lips. "For a while, I did." She was not going to cry, not when that was clearly what her sister wanted. "But you'll be happy to know that he's back in Azkaban, where you clearly believe he belongs." This wasn't going to work. Andromeda had been correct in saying that there were too many complications. They were enemies, and that was the long and short of it. Narcissa stood stiffly, her chair scraping on the floorboards as she pushed it back. "I think I should be going," she said, and headed for the door without waiting to be shown out. She should have known better than to expect any conclusion but this one.

"Narcissa," Andromeda exclaimed, jumping to her feet and following, "Wait."

She did no such thing. Narcissa continued toward the front door, squashing her emotions down to keep them from exploding out of her.

Andromeda caught her arm, and Narcissa whirled around to face her, pulling away from her sister's grip. How dare she touch her. How dare she try to stop her.

"What do you mean, Lucius is back in Azkaban?" Andromeda asked seriously. "I thought they were reviewing his case?"

Narcissa raised her chin haughtily. "Perhaps they are, but they thought it better to imprison him until they have come to a decision. And if their thinking is anywhere along the same lines as yours, I don't expect I'll ever get him back." She was trembling with anger, and turned to leave.

"Cissy, don't go," Andromeda entreated.

It would only be moments until Narcissa burst into tears, and she knew it. "I need to go be with my son, Andromeda. Tomorrow they'll decide whether or not to lock him away as well," Narcissa told her, finally unable to hold back her tears. She mustered up every bit of hatred she could, and snarled, "Perhaps you'll get justice, Andromeda. Perhaps my husband and son will be ripped away from me forever. Then I'll finally understand _just_ how you feel."

She fled the house, striding forward briskly without a backward glance. Tears blinded her as they flooded her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She heard her sister call out her name, but she ignored it. She was never coming back to this house again. Ever.

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><p><em>Author's Note: Don't hate me. <em>_All is not lost. Leave me a review, and let all your feelings out. :)_

_P.S: 100 reviews? YOU GUYS ROCK. _


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: For anyone still reading this story... you are the best. **_

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><p>Andromeda Tonks had not stepped foot in the Ministry of Magic for years, and so it took a few minutes for her to orient herself before she found the lifts that would take her to the courtrooms in the lower level. Once she found them, though, it was easy enough to find her way down, and easier still to spot her sister outside one of the courtrooms, sitting primly on a stone bench next to an anxious-looking young man with shocking blonde hair that could only belong to a Malfoy.<p>

Narcissa froze when she saw her sister approaching, and the young man Andromeda knew must be Draco stared at her with his mouth slightly agape.

Anny was a little nervous, but expected that since they were in a public place, Narcissa would not make a scene. She plunged ahead without preamble, addressing her sister. "Are they deliberating?"

Her sister came out of her shock after a moment and nodded. "What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"You said Draco's hearing was today. I thought I ought to be here." She looked at her nephew, and he had still not closed his mouth. "Speaking of which, are you going to introduce us?" Andromeda asked her sister.

Narcissa glanced sidelong at her son. "This is my son Draco, as you've obviously surmised. Draco," she said softly, hesitantly, "...this is your Aunt Andromeda."

The young man was speechless. He stared at her with grey eyes that were so very much like his father's, and then finally came to his senses. He stood, and extended his hand to her. "A pleasure to finally meet you," he said, only faltering slightly.

Andromeda reciprocated the handshake firmly. "It is, indeed."

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm afraid I'm... not in good form at the moment. I apologize for any impoliteness," Draco said quickly.

"You have a lot on your mind at the moment, I'm sure. No forgiveness is needed." She squeezed his hand with both of hers before releasing him. "How did it go?" she asked them both, directing her question more toward her nephew, since he seemed at least willing to be civil.

The pale young man shook his head slightly, and glanced toward Narcissa before speaking. "I don't know. Better than it might have, I suppose." He was clearly anxious, the way he kept shifting his weight and glancing toward the courtroom door.

Narcissa finally spoke again, holding out her hand. "Sit, Draco. Don't work yourself up again."

"I'm sorry, Mum, I can't. If I sit here another minute I'm going to lose it." Draco ran a hand over his face. "If you'll excuse me, I'm just going to take a walk for a minute."

"Well don't go far," his mother warned.

"Just down the hall and I'll come right back," Draco assured her. With a nod to Andromeda he turned and walked away.

Anny quietly let out a breath she'd been holding, and turned to look at her sister. "He's a handsome young man," she commented, moving to sit next to her. Narcissa smiled very faintly. She was still watching him walk away. "It's hard for me to fathom that you have a grown son."

Her sister finally glanced at her, with an expression that was unreadable. "I hardly believe it myself." She bit her lip. "He had to grow up too fast," she said quietly. Andromeda saw her cheeks becoming flushed, and realized that she'd accidentally struck a nerve.

Well, if they were already into the heavy talk, she might as well plunge ahead. "How did it go, really?"

Narcissa gave a helpless shrug. "As well as could be expected."

"Did Harry...?"

Her sister nodded. "Yes, Mr. Potter was very supportive. If there is even a chance of a ruling in our favor, I'm certain it is thanks to his testimony. And that of Hermione Granger."

They were both silent for a long moment. Narcissa eventually looked directly at her. "Who's looking after Teddy?" she asked casually.

Andromeda's eyebrows raised involuntarily. She wasn't expecting her sister to make small talk. "Molly took him for the afternoon. Molly Weasley," she clarified, seeing that Narcissa seemed perplexed. The explanation made her sister's forehead furrow for a just a moment before her expression went completely blank. Count on Cissy to be able to completely mask a negative reaction, Anny thought cynically. Though her ability had served its purpose where You-Know-Who was concerned, hadn't it? And at least she'd hid her dislike, instead of expressing it.

Andromeda decided to pretend she hadn't noticed the reaction. "I thought about what you said yesterday," she told her quietly.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow in response. "Which part?"

She had a point there. "All of it," she answered with a half-smile.

Her sister gave her a look. "You must have been up all night, in that case," she said ironically.

"Actually, that's pretty near the truth," Andromeda admitted, growing serious again.

Narcissa sobered, too. She glanced down the hall toward where her son was pacing, and looked back at her sister. "This is not the time, nor the place for us to sort this out," she asserted quietly.

"Perhaps not," Andromeda agreed tentatively. "But I think I ought to at least tell you that I'm glad you came to see me."

Narcissa pressed her lips together into a line. She nodded, and looked as if she was about to speak, but before she could, the door to the courtroom swung open and Percy Weasley stepped into the hall. "The Wizengamot is ready to announce a verdict," he announced to the two of them. Surprise registered on his face when he saw Andromeda sitting with Narcissa, but he made no comment.

Draco hurried down the hall back toward them and Narcissa stood to wait for him. Neither of them said anything; she simply linked her arm through his. She glanced back toward Anny. "Are you coming in?"

Andromeda was a little stunned that she'd asked. "Am I allowed?" she asked, looking toward Percy.

"I shouldn't see why not," Narcissa answered smoothly, before he could reply. "You are family."

They all looked at Percy then, and he was completely nonplussed. "Um, yes, I suppose, family only of course, so... yes. Yes."

The courtroom was dark and somber, and Andromeda was immediately reminded of the dungeons of Hogwarts. Draco took his seat in the center of the room, and Andromeda found a seat close by to the side. Narcissa seated herself shoulder to shoulder with her, and Anny realized that her sister was shaking. She felt the impulse to express her compassion physically, but she wasn't sure if Narcissa would want her comfort. She glanced over at her, but the younger witch was staring straight up at Kingsley with a fearful look that she could no longer hide.

The Wizengamot was assembled in seats that rose up at the front of the room, and they quickly ended their whispered conversations as Kingsley stood up. "The court has heard testimony and considered all the evidence presented. We will now cast our votes." He paused and took a breath. "Those in favor of granting a pardon?"

Half the court raised their hands. Andromeda felt a sinking in her stomach. "And those not in favor?" A great many hands were raised into the air, so many that it was difficult to say which side held the majority.

Kingsley frowned, and looked down at the stenographer, a plump little witch who was looking around and scribbling furiously at the same time. "Twenty-nine to twenty-one," she announced importantly, looking up at Kingsley. "The ayes have it."

Down in front, Draco was still staring up at the court with a petrified expression. Andromeda grabbed her sister's arm without thinking, feeling the weight lift off her chest. Narcissa had gone slightly limp, as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time and had finally released it with her whole body.

"In that case, Draco Malfoy, you are hereby granted a full pardon for any crimes committed throughout the recent conflict, and you are free to go."

After the verdict, Narcissa regained her faculties quickly enough to exit the courtroom with Draco, and Andromeda trailed behind. It wasn't until they were outside that Narcissa let her emotions surge out. "Oh thank God, Draco," she uttered, placing her hands on the side of his head. Narcissa hugged her son fiercely, and Andromeda felt a bit like she was trespassing on an important moment. They parted, and Narcissa had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, Mum," Draco said, half-laughing in relief. "I'm free to go, remember?"

Narcissa chuckled, but that didn't stop her tears. "Don't you tell me not to cry. I don't know what I would've done..." she choked up, and she pulled him close again. "You're my little boy, Draco," she said in a small voice. She kissed him on the cheek before letting go again, this time _actually_ letting him go. She took a moment to straighten the front of his suit jacket before she stepped away, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.

Andromeda definitely felt uneasy. She'd wanted to be here for Narcissa, but they really were like strangers. If the verdict had gone wrong she'd been prepared to offer solace, but she hadn't really thought about what she would do if there was a happy outcome.

Surprisingly, it was Draco who turned and looked at his newly-acquired aunt. "Thank you for being here," he said earnestly. Andromeda tried not to look stunned. He turned to look at Narcissa. "I'm glad you didn't have to hear that alone."

Draco's face was flushed pink, and he seemed slightly embarrassed. Andromeda guessed, and Narcissa's expression confirmed, that such a mature, voluntary expression of gratitude was a new step for him. "Oh you don't need to thank me, I was hardly here at all, really," she said modestly.

"No, really," he insisted. "I mean it."

"Well, you're welcome," she conceded. From the what she'd heard about Draco before, which was third-hand through Dora talking about Harry's suspicions almost two years ago, she hadn't expected to like him. She was happy to discover that she'd been incorrect.

Narcissa didn't directly respond to the exchange, though she was clearly moved. She continued to mop up her face, and remarked, "Just one more day of this, and we can finally move on."

Andromeda looked between the two of them. "You mean for Lucius," she said questioningly.

Draco nodded, and Narcissa confirmed, "Yes. They're hearing his case in the morning."

Andromeda's breath caught in her lungs for a second. "Tomorrow? Lucius is being tried _tomorrow_?"

Her sister cocked her head slightly and responded, "They're _hearing his case_ tomorrow, yes. It was published in the _Prophet_ that they're holding a public hearing. Did you not notice it?"

"No, I've been a bit... preoccupied, I haven't kept up with the papers." A public hearing. Tomorrow. That was not good. It was far too soon for this to come to any good. Whoever had pushed for this public hearing must have an agenda to put Lucius back behind bars or worse, because this felt terribly rushed. Most people seemed ready to throw the remaining Death Eaters at the mercy of the Dementors, from what Anny had seen and heard. They wanted blood, and they would not be ready to offer leniency to a convicted felon, no matter what he'd done to prove himself. People would submit accusations left and right, and most of them would probably be true.

But she couldn't express any of this to the Malfoys. Not when they'd just had such good fortune.

"Well, I suppose we all ought to get some rest before tomorrow, then," Andromeda said neutrally. "Unless you'd prefer me not to be there," she added, looking at her sister.

Narcissa considered her for a moment, before giving the tiniest shake of her head. "It's entirely up to you."

"Then I'll see you both in the morning," she declared. As she moved to go, she put a hand on her nephew's arm. "I'm very happy for you, Draco," Andromeda told him sincerely.

They said their goodbyes and Andromeda rushed off in the direction of the lifts. Instead of heading for the main atrium, however, she selected Level One - where she knew she could find the Minister for Magic's office.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please R&amp;R! :)<strong>_


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